New Lives
by Beatrice Otter
Summary: So, Jack and Sam are together, and we're in Happily Ever After territory, right? Well ... not exactly. Sequel to Consequences.
1. Chapter 1

AN: And here, finally, is the sequel to Consequences. Note that I have just started a Livejournal; my name is beatriceotter, if you want to check it out. I'll probably talk about my writing there, at least occasionally.

* * *

Captain Sam Carter, PhD, eyed the experiment before her with a critical eye. Her assistants watched her, waiting for the final verdict. Much time and effort had been lavished on it, crucial as it was to the over-all project. "No," she said at last. "I liked the sofa better against the north wall."

Teal'c nodded silently and grabbed his arm of the couch.

Jack started to follow suit, but paused. "You're sure? You don't need to see what it looks like against the south wall _again_? No sudden urge to see if we can nail it to the ceiling?"

"No, I'm sure," Sam said, trying to suppress a giggle. She hadn't been _that_ bad, had she?

"For what purpose would one wish to attach seating to the ceiling?" Teal'c asked.

"One wouldn't." Jack shot her a mock glare. "Unless one was obsessed with … new and unusual furniture rearrangements."

"Jack's just joking," Sam said to the alien when Jack's explanation didn't help. Teal'c raised both eyebrows in acceptance of his human commander's foibles, and bent to his work again, this time with Jack's help.

"Hey, guys, Janet and I are almost done in here," Daniel said. Sam turned to see him standing in the entrance to the hallway. He frowned, watching his teammates haul furniture. "Didn't you just put that there?"

"_Yes_, Daniel," Jack growled.

"Oh. Well, anyway, Janet and I are just about done clearing out the baby's room, and we're hungry. Should we order take-out?"

"Sounds good to me," Sam said. Even if they had groceries in the house, which she wasn't sure, she was too tired to cook, and she hadn't been doing the kind of heavy lifting the guys had.

"I vote for pizza," Jack said. "You have an opinion, T?"

"I do not, O'Neill."

"I think I'm in the mood for Chinese, actually," Sam said.

"Well, Janet wants Mexican," Daniel said, "but I've got to go with Sam on this one."

"Chinese it is," Jack said. "Menu's on the fridge. Make sure you get some almond chicken."

"And some sweet and sour pork," Sam added. She turned back to Jack and Teal'c as Daniel headed in to the kitchen. "Do you guys have things under control out here?"

"Yeah," Jack said as he and Teal'c picked up the (empty) bookcase to move it back into position.

Sam left them to it and went in search of Janet.

The room they'd chosen for the nursery was right next to the master bedroom; Jack had been using it as a junk room since he'd moved in. Most of it had been filled with boxes he'd brought from the house he'd shared with his ex-wife but never bothered to unpack, relics of a lifetime tossed haphazardly in boxes. After all of Sam's stuff had been brought in to the house, Daniel had volunteered to use his archaeological skills on the boxes to get the room cleared out while Sam, Jack, and Teal'c rearranged furniture. Janet had volunteered to help him.

"Hey, Sam," Janet said, looking up from her dusting as Sam entered the room.

"Janet, thanks," Sam said, looking around. It was amazing how much room there was when the boxes were cleared out.

"No problem, Sam," Janet said with a smile. "All we did was move the boxes from one room to another, really. You and Jack are going to have to be the ones to go through them all—and yours—and decide what goes where, what stays in boxes, all that stuff."

Sam grimaced. "Don't remind me. Unpacking and decorating was always the worst problem I had with roommates, no matter where I was stationed."

"Really?" Janet said, with a raised eyebrow. "You're lucky."

"Well, actually," Sam said, "I never really spent enough time in my quarters to get into trouble with my roommates. I'm kind of a workaholic, if you hadn't noticed."

"Why, no, I hadn't," Janet said with a twinkle in her eye. She finished her dusting and glanced around the room. "Let's go see what the guys are up to, shall we?"


	2. Chapter 2

AN: This chapter is a little bit shorter than I expected, as anyone who's read my livejournal knows. Sorry. At least I still got something up this week, which I wasn't sure I was going to.

* * *

"So, have you guys started thinking about names, yet?" Daniel asked, poking through a box of veggies with chopsticks.

"No, not really," Jack said. "I mean, we don't even know if it's gonna be a boy or a girl, yet." He speared a piece of chicken with a fork and shoveled it into his mouth. The geek had tried to get him to use chopsticks as 'part of the experience' when the food had arrived, and only the threat of extra physical training had shut him up. Jack had tried chopsticks when he was stationed in Okinawa; he thought maybe they were part of the reason the Japanese had lost World War II.

"Actually, I've got some ideas," Sam said.

He looked up at her, sitting directly across from him. "There's a surprise. Such as?"

"Well, I was thinking maybe Dorothy if it's a girl." Sam took a sip of her water. "It was my mother's name. Or, I've always liked Grace, Hope, Faith, those kinds of names." She popped another bite in her mouth.

"Dorothy's good," Jack said. "Mary's big in my family. Grandmother, two aunts, three cousins, all named Mary."

"Irish Catholic family, I'm assuming?" Janet said.

"Oh, yeah." Irish Catholic family, Irish Catholic neighborhood, Irish Catholic everything—though one of his aunts (not named Mary) had married an Italian Catholic, just for variety.

"So, do they know about," Daniel waved his chopsticks in Sam's direction, "this?"

Jack took a bite of chicken, chewed, and swallowed. Alas, they were still waiting for an answer. "Not yet. I'll probably mention it in this year's Christmas card, or something."

"Jack!" Daniel's voice rose in exasperation. "You can't just send them a card with that kind of news—you should at least give them a call and tell them in person."

"Why?" Jack asked. Daniel was probably right—it was an annoying habit of his—but that didn't mean he had to admit it.

"Because they're your family," Daniel said slowly, as if talking to a three year old. As if that were all the answer that was needed.

Come to think of it, Jack seemed to recall from his personnel jacket that the archaeologist had been orphaned at a young age, and didn't have a family besides Sha're. Which meant he probably didn't have that great an idea just what kinds of problems families could get into, and why sometimes limiting communications to Christmas cards was a very good thing. "And?" Jack said, raising an eyebrow.

Daniel spluttered a bit, and Janet cut in before he could come up with an answer. "So, Sam, have you told your dad and brother yet?"

Sam winced and studied her plate, which suddenly seemed interesting enough to consume her whole attention. "Not yet," she said. "I'm going to call Dad, tell him I need to talk with him in person. Hopefully, he'll come here, but if he doesn't want to I'll go visit him. This isn't the kind of stuff I want to tell him over the phone."

"Would Jack be going with you?" Daniel asked.

"God, no," Sam said, horrified. She glanced at him. "No offense, Jack, but that would be throwing fuel on the fire. And … neither of you are very tactful. I don't want to introduce you to Dad until he's had a chance to calm down."

"Ah." Jack said, relieved. Of course, he'd do whatever she needed, but it was … good she didn't need him for that.

"Will not your father be proud that your child will have a great warrior for a father?" Teal'c asked, raising an eyebrow. Jack shook his head internally at the sheer amount of food on the Jaffa's plate.

"Well, ordinarily the fact that Jack's an Air Force officer would be a plus, yeah," Sam said, tilting her head to the side. "But before the Stargate program, he was in covert operations, which Dad doesn't consider the greatest character reference—too much spy work, too many questionable missions, that sort of thing. Jonas was in covert operations, and Dad didn't like him at all. If he were a pilot, that might help." She shook her head. "But even if he had been a pilot … my Dad's been a career officer all his life. He doesn't approve of women in the military in the abstract, in large part because he thinks that there's too much risk of fraternization, which is bad for discipline and easily exploited."

"Fraternization?" Daniel frowned. "What does that mean in this context, exactly?"

"An unprofessional relationship," Jack said. "One that causes or could cause favoritism." He grimaced. "Like sleeping with someone you command. Basically, they don't wanna have people get so close to those they command that they hesitate to send 'em out into hazardous situations."

"They also don't want situations where someone might receive preferential treatment due to a personal relationship," Sam added. "Or where others in the unit could assume someone's getting preferential treatment—it's bad for both discipline and morale." She reached for the sweet and sour pork container for a second helping.

"Sexual harassment can be a problem, too," Janet said. "Not that it is, in itself, fraternization, but keeping one under control can help with the other."

"I guess that makes sense," Daniel said, "but you can't regulate people's feelings with laws. What do you do if you fall in love with someone and a relationship would be fraternization?"

"Transfer," Sam said. "It's only a problem if it's with someone in the same chain of command. Besides, military assignments don't tend to last more than a few years, anyway."

"They do have dispensations, sometimes, for special cases," Janet put in. "If it's just an office job and the couple wouldn't be directly supervising each other, particularly if they're married, they can sometimes get a dispensation."

"Okay." Daniel nodded, "I get all that. But what … happened to the two of you," he waved a hand in their direction, "wasn't fraternization because you were under alien influence."

"Yes, but we can't tell _Dad_ that," Sam said, rather patiently, Jack thought. "He's going to assume we were having an illicit affair and got caught red-handed. He'll be disappointed and angry with me, and he'll be furious with Jack for leading me astray and jeopardizing my career."

"You haven't talked much about him, and I didn't think you were in contact with him," Janet said. "Are you sure he'll know Jack was your CO?" After a day of moving, they were all on a first-name basis.

"Oh, yeah," Sam said. "Trust me, he keeps tabs on my career. It took me years, after I graduated from the Academy, to convince him I didn't want him to arrange assignments for me, that I wanted to earn my own way through the ranks and not depend on his influence."

"Captain Carter, you said he disapproves of fraternization and the resulting favoritism," Teal'c said, frowning, as he reached for one of the cartons.

"Oh, fraternization and the Good Ol' Boys network are different," Jack said, watching in some disbelief as Teal'c dished out a second helping, almost as huge as the first. "Don't ask me how, but they are." He dug back into his food. He'd thought they'd ordered plenty for leftovers, but at the rate the alien was going through the food, they wouldn't have any. Oh, well. They'd know better next time.

"So, basically, he's going to kill Jack?" Daniel said, looking back and forth between Jack and Sam.

"Yup."

"Pretty much."


	3. Chapter 3

AN: So, due to the fact that the writing on this story is going much slower than Consequences did, I'm going to be shooting for a chapter length of about 1200 words long instead of 1500. That extra three hundred words makes a surprising amount of difference. And if you want notes about my writing, check out my Livejournal. Any comments will go there.

* * *

Two hours later, Sam shut the door behind their friends and turned to face Jack. Now what? She leaned back on the door and studied him, reality sinking in. She hadn't lived with a guy since Jonas, and that relationship had had a lot of complications this one didn't. Besides, by the time she and Jonas had moved in together they'd been together for over a year and had known each others' habits and foibles.

"Hey," Jack said. "Whatcha thinking?"

Sam realized she'd kind of been staring. "Nothing much," she said. "I know we've got a lot of stuff to unpack, but I think I've had enough moving for one day."

"I'd have to agree with you there," Jack said. "Wanna watch a movie?"

"What'd you have in mind?" Sam asked, moving to the living room and sitting down on the couch. She surprised herself by yawning. It wasn't _that_ late, and she hadn't been very physically active today, but suddenly she felt really tired. "Actually, I think I'd probably fall asleep in the middle," she said sheepishly.

"Ah." Jack flopped down next to her.

Sam rubbed her neck. "Do you have any plans for tomorrow?" she asked.

"No, not particularly," Jack said. He sat forward and moved her around so he could give her a backrub. It felt heavenly.

"Oh, that feels good," Sam said, closing her eyes. After concentrating on the sensations for a few minutes, she remembered what she'd wanted to ask. "Would you mind visiting a local church with me tomorrow?"

Jack didn't answer for a few minutes. "Any particular occasion?" he said at last.

"Not really. I haven't gone to church in a while, not since before I joined the SGC, but I definitely want the baby to be raised with a strong faith." Sam shrugged. "That's easier to do if you attend church regularly, so I'd like to check out the Episcopalian churches in the area. I've never been much interested in the rituals, but faith is important to me." She paused, but Jack didn't say anything. He just kept rubbing. "I know you're Catholic; we could try a Catholic church if you like. I'd prefer Episcopalian, but Catholic would be okay." With an effort, she stopped herself from babbling on to fill the silence. She'd noticed that Jack tended to be more responsive if she waited for him to talk when he was ready.

"Episcoplian's fine," he said after a while.

He stopped rubbing her shoulders, and Sam moved to snuggle into him. She waited, hoping he'd elaborate on that. If nothing else, living with Jack was going to teach her patience. She traced lazy designs on his chest while she waited.

"I haven't been inside a church since Charlie's funeral," Jack admitted in a low voice.

Sam couldn't see his face, but she wrapped her arms around him to give him support without interrupting him. She felt his body ease into hers, tension draining away. She wanted to talk, but couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't sound trite. Her mother's funeral had been bad; she couldn't imagine what going to your own child's funeral would be like.

Jack wrapped an arm about her. "Couldn't go Catholic, I'm divorced," he pointed out. "They kind of frown on that. We wouldn't be able to get married in the church without getting an annulment, which I doubt they'd grant. Baptism would also be a hassle."

"Episcopalian it is," Sam said. "There are seven Episcopalian churches in Colorado Springs. The two nearest parishes are St. Raphael's and the Chapel of Our Savior. I think we should try them first. Any preference?"

"Nope."

"Then let's check out Our Savior. Early or late service?"

"You kidding? Early service on a Sunday morning?" He shuddered. "No. Late service."

"Okay," Sam said, surprising herself by yawning again.

"And speaking of 'late,' it sounds like it's time to get _you_ off to bed." She could hear the grin in his voice as he prodded her shoulder to get her up.

"I'm comfortable here," Sam protested half-heartedly as she swung her feet to the floor.

"Yeah, but you'd be more comfortable in bed," Jack pointed out, not letting her sag back against him. "Off we go. We've got to get you caught up on all that sleep you missed."

Sam considered protesting, wanting to put the awkwardness of getting into bed together for the first time off for as long as possible, but she _was_ tired, despite the fact that it was only around 2200. Another yawn decided her. "You win. Bedtime it is." She stood up and stretched.

* * *

Sam stood in the master bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. She was finished with her nightly routine, and wondering what to do next. Besides opening the door and getting in bed, obviously. Jack had shut down the house, and she could hear him rustling around out in the bedroom.

The question was sex. Jonas had been more than a bit dictatorial about it; he made it obvious when he wanted it, and if she wasn't in the mood, that was her problem. Looking back, Sam couldn't believe she'd put up with his attitude for so long. Obviously, she wasn't going to fall into the same sort of relationship again; she doubted Jack would behave like that even if she were willing to let him get away with it. Having confirmed that, however, Sam was left wondering exactly how to handle normal sexual relations. She wished, now, that she'd waited a few months to move in. It would have given them the chance to ease in to the physical side of the relationship.

Sam shook her head. She was being ridiculous; it wasn't like she could hide out in here all night. She was done with her nightly bathroom routine. She looked fine. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the doorknob.

Jack turned as she entered. "Hey," he said. He'd changed into boxers and a tank top; somewhat to her surprise, he'd put the dirty clothes in the hamper instead of leaving them out. Jonas hadn't done that, and neither had Dad or Mark.

"Hey," she replied, unsure of what to do next.

Jack brushed past her, heading for the bathroom. Sam shrugged and went over to set her alarm clock. Not that she'd need it, if they were going to late service, but it never hurt to be certain. Water was still running in the bathroom, so she dug the novel she was currently reading out of her duffel bag and settled in to the bed. They'd decided who got which side that morning when they brought her night-stand in. After they got baby furniture, Sam figured the next project was a new bedroom set; her stuff didn't go with Jack's stuff, and neither set was particularly nice or interesting or significant.

She was reading when Jack came out. He crossed over to his side of the bed and got in without a word, turning off the lamp on his side. Twenty minutes later, when Sam finished the chapter, he was asleep, his breathing not quite heavy enough to be considered snoring. Sam put away her book and turned out the lamp, feeling oddly disappointed.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the short chapter, folks, but this was just the _perfect_ place to stop. I'll try to make the next one longer. Again, swing by to check out my new Livejournal. Link is on my profile page. If this archive allowed links, I'd put one in here for you.

* * *

The next morning when Sam woke up, they were spooning. Jack's arm was around her, and her back was pressed against his front. They fit well together, she noticed contentedly. She also noticed that he was a normal, healthy male with a normal, healthy, um, reaction to morning. Given where her butt was, she could hardly help noticing. Not counting the encounter under the virus, it had been a while since Sam had last been with a man. And she was feeling a bit…. She checked the clock. Yep, it was still early. They had plenty of time.

She arched back against Jack, rubbing slightly, stroking the arm around her middle—it was all she could reach with her hands. After a few minutes of that, she wriggled around in the bed to give her hands more scope to roam. Listening to his breathing, Sam could tell when it started to change. Still, that didn't give her any warning when she suddenly found herself flipped over and pinned—gently—under Jack's weight.

"Whatcha doin'?" he asked with a grin.

"If you couldn't figure that out, I must be doing something wrong," Sam said, laughing.

* * *

Jack dropped his keys on the table by the door and watched Sam head over to the phone. Church had been okay; he'd have protested if she'd suggested one of those huge mega-things with more scenery, sound equipment, and staging than most community theaters, but other than that, he didn't really care. They were planning on spending the afternoon unpacking stuff and going over the house. Jack was anticipating a long honey-do list if Sam was anything like Sara on the subject. Not that he'd let the place go, since he'd bought it … but he hadn't really been paying all _that_ much attention to it.

First, however, Sam was going to call her Dad. As she listened to it ring, Jack crossed over to the couch and sat down next to her, reaching over to hold the hand that wasn't holding the phone. She squeezed his hand, and smiled at him. He could feel the tension in her body where their legs touched.

"Hi, Dad," she said, in a bright voice at odds with the strain in her body. "It's me, Sam. How are you doing?" She paused, listening, rubbing her thumb gently over the back of his hand. "That's good to hear." Her face got a slightly pained look. "Yes, I'm fine too." She bit her lip. "No, I haven't talked to Mark lately. Can't I just call my Dad on a Sunday afternoon to chat?" She winced. "Yeah, I did get moved to a different team. My assignment now is more purely scientific." Pause. "Yes, I did a lot of science on my other team. I do more now." She looked down, but her voice stayed strong and confident. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Dad." Pause. "You could always come out and visit, you know. I'd love to see you, and I'm sure General Hammond would be thrilled to see an old friend."

It was Jack's turn to tense. Old friend?

"I have some leave coming I could take," Sam continued, "I could show you around—I couldn't show you the base, though." Pause. "Yes, I know you were stationed here twenty-five years ago, but it might have changed, some. And we could talk." Her muscles relaxed a little. "I'm sure General Hammond would love to go golfing with you." Pause. "Okay, let me know when your flight will get in and I'll pick you up. I love you, Dad."

Jack watched her hang up. "So, that was telling Dad, huh?"

Sam winced. "Yeah. I kind of chickened out, there. Well, at least he's coming here, so I can tell him in person. That should be easier than talking over the phone."

"For _you_," Jack pointed out. "You're not the one he's gonna hit when he finds out."

"He won't hit you," Sam said with a grin. "He won't like it, but it's not like he's going to attack you or anything." She put the phone back on the hook and leaned back.

"You're sure about that?" Jack asked, skeptical. He sat back and put his feet up on the coffee table. Sam poked him, and he put them down on the floor again.

"Uh-huh." Sam nodded firmly, snuggling in.

"Positive?"

"Absolutely."

"One hundred percent?"

"Yes." Sam paused. "I think."

Jack made a face at her. She made one back at him. They sat quietly for a few minutes. Thoughts of gruesome and truly horrible fates Carter, senior could dish out ran through Jack's head. He suppressed a shudder.

"Y'know," Sam said meditatively. "You are a special ops veteran. You travel regularly to other planets and fight aliens who were genetically designed and bred to be great warriors. I used to do that for a living, too."

"Yeah. You even fought a Mongol chieftain single-handed in hand-to-hand combat, and won."

"So, should we be scared of a single, middle-aged pilot whose only recent assignments have been flying desks?"

Jack thought for a second. He looked down at Sam's blonde head, and considered how _he'd_ react if he had a daughter and some guy had gotten her pregnant. Especially if the bozo was her CO.

Sam looked up at him through her bangs. They studied each other for a few seconds, then turned their faces forward again.

"Yep."

"Absolutely."


	5. Chapter 5

Sam frowned at her computer, studying the results from the latest round of tests on an alien artifact brought back by SG-2. _That_ wasn't at all what she'd been expecting; she'd have to run all her data through the computer for correlation, because if there was any, she wasn't seeing it.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"Oh, hey, Jack," Sam said with a distracted glance at the door. "I'm not quite sure what exactly this thing is supposed to do, but what's really interesting is the physical properties of the material it's made of. It's made of an alloy we haven't come across before, and it doesn't—"

"Y'know, Sam, that _was_ a rhetorical question. The chances of my actually understanding the answer are way less than the Red Sox winning the World Series."

Sam looked up to see amusement in Jack's brown eyes. She liked the way they crinkled when he was trying not to smile. "Oh. I'm sorry, Jack, it's just so fascinating."

"And I'm glad you think so," Jack said, picking up the item in question and fiddling with it. "But now it's time to go home."

"What?" Sam frowned as she retrieved the artifact and put it safely out of Jack's reach. "But I only had lunch about," she glanced at her watch and blinked in shock, "five hours ago. Oh." She shook her head, wondering where the day had gone.

"Time flies when you're having fun," Jack said, nodding. "And now it has flown, and it's time to go home. I'm hungry."

"Why don't you grab something in the commissary while you wait, then, Jack," Sam said, flipping on equipment and getting ready for the next test she wanted to run. She thought maybe if she—

"I'm sure Junior is hungry, too," Jack said, interrupting her train of thought. "Come on. It'll still be here tomorrow when we come back."

"Yeah, sure," she said absently. Sam _was_ feeling a little hungry, now that he mentioned it, but she could grab a snack and wait till this was done to eat dinner. Doctor Roverud would be excited when she showed him what she had so far; maybe she should call him in before starting the next phase of testing. He was still being briefed and didn't even have a lab assigned to him yet, but this was his field, not hers, anyway. Still, if they could figure out how to reverse-engineer this stuff …

The sound of Jack clearing his throat ostentatiously brought her attention back to him. He had a piece of paper in front of him, and Sam groaned internally as she realized what it was.

"'I, Captain Samantha Carter, do solemnly swear that I will work neither too hard nor too long for the duration of my pregnancy. I will eat regular, balanced meals, and maintain a healthy lifestyle. I will not work longer than eight hours a day unless there is a dire emergency. I will not take work home with me. If I attempt to circumvent this agreement, I hereby give Colonel John (Jack) O'Neill permission to drag me, kicking and screaming if need be, home. I also hereby give him, Doctor Daniel Jackson, and Teal'c, permission to call on Doctor Janet Frasier for medical backing, if need be. In the case of—'"

"Okay, you win," Sam said with a sigh, moving to shut down her equipment. "I know what that thing says, okay, Jack?"

"Just making sure," Jack said, folding it carefully and putting it back in his pocket. "And, hey, you worked a total of nine hours today, so cheer up."

Sam secured the artifact in her safe. She'd thought Jack was being ridiculous and over-dramatic when he'd come to her with that thing and asked her to sign it. Sam knew how to pace herself. She wasn't _that_ much of a workaholic, was she? Unfortunately, as this was the third time this week that he'd had to bring it out and use it (and it was only Wednesday), she had a sneaking suspicion that maybe he was right and she did work too hard. Which kind of undercut her annoyance about the whole thing. But only a little.

"Okay," Jack said as she turned back to him, "want to say goodbye to Daniel on our way out? I swear, he needs a keeper as much as you do, but one geek at a time is enough for me."

"Sure," Sam said as they left her lab, closing the blast door behind her.

"Maybe I can sic Teal'c on him," Jack mused as they headed for the elevator. "The big guy should be able to handle him."

"The problem with that idea is that Daniel doesn't have anyone else who can do what he does," Sam pointed out. "They've only had a couple linguists recruited so far, and none of them speak Goa'uld yet. Until he can train people to take up the slack, there's not much you can do about it. And teaching Goa'uld takes up Daniel's time and means he has to work more overtime to get his regular work done."

"Good point," Jack said. "Teal'c spends an awful lot of time talking with the strategy/tactics types, and the weapons guys, but not the geeks. Maybe we can get _him_ to teach them Goold, get that out of Daniel's hair. Then we can sic him on Daniel. Problem solved."

"I see," Sam said. "And recruiting good linguists?"

Jack waived a hand. "Not my department, but I'll talk to Hammond. Maybe we can get some geek courses taught at the Academy, get some kids in fresh out of school."

"There's already a lot of 'geek' courses at the academy," Sam pointed out, slightly amused at his plotting.

"Yeah, but they're all math and science and stuff," Jack said with a dismissive wave. "No language and dead cultures and that stuff Danny's always nattering on about. I'll talk to Hammond."

"You do that," Sam said. The chances of him succeeding were slim at best, given the amount of people he'd need to convince to get a curriculum change that massive and the fact that probably none of them knew about the Stargate and why such a change would be a good thing. Then there was the fact that the SGC was very new, and who knew what their needs would be in a few years. Military bureaucrats were just like every other kind, they liked to wait and see before doing anything. Still, if it kept him busy and out of her hair, she was all for it. It hadn't taken her long to figure out that a Jack with nothing to do was a scary thing indeed.

They stepped out of the elevator on level 18 and walked the short way down the hall to Daniel's lab.

"Hey, there, Danny-boy," Jack said.

"Hey, Jack," Daniel said absently. "I've been going over the pictures we brought back from P8X-494 and found some really interesting markings on some of the rock formations that I didn't notice while we were there. I think the planet may have been inhabited at one point…."

"That sounds interesting, Daniel," Sam broke in with the ease of practice. Honestly, when they got immersed in their work they were a lot alike. "Jack and I are headed out, now. We just stopped by to say good night."

"Yes, good night," Jack said. "Isn't it about time you went home too? Kicked back, ate dinner, watched a little hockey, whatever?"

"Oh, I've already had dinner," Daniel said, pushing his glasses up his nose. "And I am going home in not too long." He frowned and looked at his watch. "I think. But this is really fascinating, and I need to—"

"I'm sure," Jack said. "Really. I am. Fascinating. And we're going."

"See you tomorrow," Sam said, _not_ mentioning that Jack was plotting to sic Teal'c on him. Misery loved company, after all, and her reduced work schedule was the only part of her current misery that she could share. Tender breasts, morning sickness (though that had finally gone away, thank God) and mood swings were not exactly communicable to her former teammates.

Besides, if Daniel wasn't happy she wouldn't exactly start crying.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: For those of you who were confused by the ending of the last chapter, Sam was _not_ crying. She was thinking to herself that if Daniel were upset, she wouldn't automatically think it was a bad scene. Take a look back at Sam's reaction to Daniel during the mess on Argos in Consequences (the story that comesbefore this one): she's upset at the fact that he allowed Jack to get drugged and seduced by Kynthia. That issue was unresolved as of the end of Consequences, and is still unresolved. I didn't make a big deal of it, though so I'm not surprised people forgot.

AN2: Writing has slowed to a crawl on this story for a variety of reasons. This is why I don't post a story until I've got a large chunk of it already written--if I posted stuff the second they were done, there would be no updates for a long time, at this point.

* * *

Jack paused, frowning. Was that _clicking_ he heard? As in, Sam's laptop? He put the dish he was holding in the dishwasher and straightened up, following the sound towards their bedroom. Sam had said she'd be working on unpacking her stuff and getting it put away. She was pretty much done, but she was a perfectionist and liked to futz with things to make sure they were perfect. He'd been right about the honey-do list; under her orders, he'd already finished unpacking all the boxes in the house that he'd simply never unpacked when he moved in, and now she was talking about things like paint, and wallpaper, and curtains, and accessories, and furniture, and the garage, and … stuff. He'd already told her he'd paint, but he didn't do wallpaper.

He eased the bedroom door open all the way. Sure enough, there was Sam, stretched out on the bed with the lap-top in her lap. He walked in, quietly but not overly so, and was _so_ not surprised when she didn't look up. Well before the virus and her pregnancy, Jack had figured out that once Sam got involved in her work, a herd of rampaging elephants was needed to draw her attention. It was a good thing in a lab, less so in the field, though as far as he'd seen she could control herself in the field. Not that she'd have much opportunity for that, now, and he suppressed a twinge of guilt.

He glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, it was work. He wasn't sure exactly what it was, but it wasn't a computer game. "Sam," he said, poking her in the shoulder. "Are you being a bad little girl?"

She didn't look up. "Jack, please don't interrupt. I just had this idea about how we can speed up the computer's corrections for stellar drift. I obviously don't have the program on my laptop—not enough memory or speed—but I'm doing some rough modeling."

"That's good," Jack said, slightly exasperated. Did the woman never turn her brain off? Didn't she get tired? He sure did, just from hanging around her. "But I'm sure you can take care of it tomorrow. At work."

Sam finally stopped typing, though she kept her gaze fixed on the screen. "Jack."

That didn't sound good. "Yes?"

"Give me that piece of paper."

Her flat tones and still face did not bode well. "What … piece of paper?" Was that the grinding of teeth he heard?

"That _damn_ agreement."

Okay, she was pissed. And he was pretty sure she'd cut out some other swear words, there. "Why?" he asked, knowing he was taking his life in his hands.

"So I can tear it up! I'm not some two year old who needs to have her toys taken away!"

Now she was looking at him, and, oy, she was hopping mad. "Um, Sam, I'm not treating you like a two year old," he said in his absolute most soothing voice.

"Yes you are," she said. "You're telling me where to go and when and what to eat and I'm sick of it! I did live on my own for 31 years before you came along, and I can damn well take care of myself! I know I'm a workaholic compared to most people, but I'm damn good at my job and I don't push myself too hard."

"I know that," Jack said, sitting down on the bed next to her. "But your body's not the same now. You need more rest and more food, and so does the baby." He put a hand on her thigh, gently, feeling her tense up. "You are fully capable of taking care of yourself. Problem is, when you get wrapped up in some problem or other, you forget to. I'm just here to remind you."

Sam stared fixedly at her computer screen. "I know you're only trying to help," she said in an even voice. "But if you keep on like this, I'm going to have to kill you."

She sounded … disturbingly serious. Since he didn't want to wake up dead one morning, Jack figured it was time for a compromise. "Okay, but you do need to learn how to relax a little. Take time off. Kick back. Have fun."

"Jack this _is_ fun for me," Sam said, looking at him. "I love my job. I love being a scientist. It's like," she paused biting her lip, "it's like doing crossword puzzles. Figuring stuff out from clues. Except when I solve a puzzle, it _matters_. It's not just some game. That's … the best feeling in the world." She gave him a half a smile. "Especially this," she said, patting her computer. "The stuff I've been doing at the SGC recently is interesting, but I'm a theoretical physicist, not an engineer."

"What's the difference?" Jack asked innocently. He knew what the difference was, but he figured keeping her talking was safer than trying to talk himself. At least he was guaranteed not to say the wrong thing, no small consideration.

Sam shot him a look that was half exasperated and half amused; he wasn't sure how much she'd bought into his whole dumb routine, but if she had doubts, she was willing to play along. He liked that. He'd been polishing this act for decades. "A theoretical scientist of any kind works on, well, theory—mathematics, equations, things like that. An engineer works with machines and other complex physical objects, designing them, building them, repairing them." She'd gone into her lecture mode; Jack figured that meant he was home free.

"Now, when you're trying to reverse-engineer alien artifacts, a solid grounding in theory is very helpful. And a working knowledge of engineering helps when you're trying to prove your theory. And I do have a broader range of engineering and scientific background than most civilian theoretical physicists; the Air Force likes to move its people around, and you get put on projects where they need people, which sometimes means you end up in areas that aren't your specialty. But it's still … frustrating, sometimes, having to be an engineer instead of an astrophysicist. This," she patted her laptop, "this is what I went to school to do. Well, the stellar drift part. The computer programming is more of a hobby."

"Ah." Jack said, nodding, trying to look clueless.

Sam took his hand. "Jack, I'm at home, curled up on my bed. I had a good meal, and did some other stuff. Now I want to work on a puzzle. I am _going_ to work on it. It will be much easier if you don't hassle me, but either way, I'm going to work on this tonight."

Jack nodded. He didn't like it … but she was right. Even if he could make her do what he wanted, she'd never forgive him. "Okay," he said. He gave her hand a squeeze and stood up. "I'll be finishing up in the kitchen if you need me."

Two nights later, Sam shut the front door guiltily behind her as she glanced at the clock. It was almost 2230; Jack would have a fit if he'd known how late she had worked that evening. But as SG-1 was off-world, currently, she didn't have to worry about him mother-henning her. Sam was determined to use the time to catch up on things she had been forced to let slide with Jack scrutinizing her work hours. It meant she'd have to work longer hours than she was used to—even for her, a fourteen-hour day was unusual—but it would be worth it.

She tried to brush off a bit of resentment. It wasn't Jack's fault she was pregnant, and Sam recognized that she needed to take better care of herself. But, God! She'd had the best job anyone could imagine, on the top off-world team. She'd devoted years of her life to bring the whole Stargate Program to life, and years preparing herself to be on it any way she could think of. The amount of sexist BS she'd had to wade through just in the day-to-day life of an officer was huge; she'd had to put up with even more to qualify for the original mission, only to be turned down in the end by West. Now, she finally had what she wanted, she'd been _living_ her dream, but her body had betrayed her. She hadn't done anything Jack hadn't, but he was able to keep his off-world status while she was stuck in a lab buried under a mountain. It was galling. She knew Hammond had had no choice but to reassign her, and if he'd had someone capable of replacing Jack he'd have probably done so just out of general fairness, but that didn't help.

She tossed her keys on the table by the door and got herself some juice from the kitchen. She eyed the beer Jack kept in there; a cold one would really help take the edge off. But no, she couldn't, because her body wasn't her own at the moment. Sighing, she closed the door and went around the wall to the living room, flopping down on the couch. She should be in bed, but she needed to unwind a little, first. Flipping the tv on, Sam surfed through channels for a few minutes before turning it off in disgust. Nothing on at ten-thirty at night, apparently, at least nothing worth watching.

She was lonely and her back hurt, but Jack wasn't there to give her a back-rub, because he was offworld. Where she would be if it weren't for the thing growing inside her. Sam prodded her stomach, just barely beginning to round out a little, and made a face at the thought of what she'd look like in five months' time. Ick. And maternity wear. BDUs actually weren't so bad, but she'd never seen any maternity wear that looked nice, and she was not looking forward to it.

Finishing her juice, Sam stood up and stretched. It didn't help, much, but it was the best she could do. A blinking light caught her eye; there was a message on the phone machine. She prayed it wasn't Dad. He could be difficult to deal with, and she just didn't have the energy to even listen to him at the moment. Sighing, she hit the button.

"Jack? This is Michael. If you're there, please pick up. I need to talk to you. If you're not going to pick up, please call back. And if you don't know my number, Sarah does. I'm in better contact with your ex-wife than I am with you. Anyway, call me."

Sam frowned as she listened to the message. Even if she had his number, it was too late to call. Besides, she'd never met the man; it would be better if Jack called and talked to him. A couple of days wouldn't matter. She debated about finding a pencil and paper to write the message down, but decided against it. She just wouldn't delete it, and remind Jack to listen to it when he got back. Yawning, she went off to bed.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Ok, I figure the end of this chapter qualifies my status as a member of the Evil Writer's Guild for the next six months. Bwahahaha ...

AN: I'm still having trouble writing new stuff on this story, though I have gotten a scene or two written since last week's post. I know exactly what needs to happen in the end, just not how to get there from here. Aargh. Anyway, here we go.

AN: We're not going to meet Michael for a few chapters yet, just so you know.

* * *

The next day, Sam was in her lab when the "unscheduled offworld activation" claxon started up. She wasn't on the flagship team anymore, and the Gateroom staff was very competent. If they needed her help, they'd call, but she wasn't about to go running every time her boyfriend came back from a mission like some overgrown school-girl with a crush. And with limited hours again now that Jack was probably back, she couldn't afford to lose any time.

* * *

Jack wandered down the hall, having just escaped the briefing room. He needed to see how Daniel was doing; this mission had been a doozy for him. But first, he hadn't seen Sam in a couple of days. He had a sneaking suspicion that while he'd been gone she'd barricaded herself in her lab and worked _way_ harder than she was supposed to. Her work ethic was incredible, but she needed to learn how to take care of herself.

The door to her lab was open, as always. He stuck his head in. "Hey."

"Hey," Sam replied distractedly, fiddling with something.

After a second, she glanced up at him and smiled. Was it just him, or did the room brighten up? Okay, that was a _horrible_ cliché, but what the hell. Sam Carter's smile really was at least 100-watt. Maybe more.

"How was the mission?" she asked, sitting back and rubbing her neck. And, yeah, she really did look like hell, smile not withstanding. On the other hand, if he brought up the subject of her work habits while he was gone, she'd probably kill him just on general principles.

"Oh, you know," he said, picking up a—well, he wasn't too sure what it was—from her desk and turning it over in his hands. "We came, we saw, Teal'c and I fought a mythical monster, Daniel destroyed a weapon meant to take Goa'uld out of their hosts, we left."

"_What? _Why?"

Jack shrugged. "It had captured Teal'c and me. Teal'c couldn't leave without it killing his symbiote, but he'd die without it. It was either destroy the weapon or leave him there in the cave it brought us to."

"And you made _Daniel_ destroy it?" She shook her head. "God, that must have been hard."

"I didn't _make_ him destroy it," Jack protested. "I gave him the staff weapon and told him it was his choice. Teal'c had already volunteered to stay there until we could either find a way for him to leave safely or until we brought Sha're there and freed her."

"And Daniel would never put his own personal feelings above someone else's life," Sam said, shaking her head, "and since we have no idea even where to find her…"

Jack shrugged. "Yeah. And if it was his decision, there's less chance of him resenting me or Teal'c for it. Anyway, I haven't had a chance to talk with him since we got back, I thought I'd check on him, see how he's doing. Wanna come along?"

Sam paused, head tilted to one side. "Okay," she said. "I just finished a group of tests, anyway." She flipped a few switches and slid down from her stool.

Jack escorted her out the door. "And then, since it's already a quarter to five, I figured we could head on out."

Sam shook her head. "I want to get the data compiling in the computer before I go. It shouldn't take long—twenty minutes, tops. I can catch a ride home with Janet, though."

Jack thought about insisting on waiting for her, but figured she wanted to spend time with the only female friend she had, so far as he knew. Far be it from him to interrupt 'girl talk.' "Okay. Do we need any groceries, anything?"

"Just milk, I think."

* * *

Daniel was sitting hunched over his desk, writing furiously away in a notebook of some kind when they reached his office. Sam figured it probably wasn't his report—he'd use the computer for that. Did he keep a diary or something?

"Hey," Jack said softly.

"Hey, Jack," Daniel said without looking up.

"How are you … doing?" Jack said, shifting.

Daniel stopped writing, though he still didn't look up. "I'm fine," he said, seeming to find his pen infinitely more interesting than them.

"Sure?" Jack said.

Sam elbowed him in the side. "I'm really sorry, Daniel."

"Yeah, so am I," Daniel said, looking up at them for the first time. To Sam's surprise, there were no tears in his eyes. But from his haunted look, maybe it would have been better if there were.

"Look, you wanna come over to our house tonight?" Jack asked. "Maybe have a beer, maybe crash in the spare room. Watch the Simpsons."

"Isn't the spare room still full of boxes?" Daniel asked.

"No, it's cleaned out and packed away," Sam said, fighting down a twinge of annoyance that she knew wasn't pure selfishness. Jack's first night back and he was inviting Daniel to come on over and camp out, including beer that Daniel didn't like but _she_ couldn't have because of the pregnancy. Daniel looked pretty out of it, and if that helped, she could live with it.

Daniel considered it for a moment, glancing between them. Sam hoped he hadn't picked up on her first reaction. "No," he said. "Thanks, but I kind of want to be alone, right now. Maybe tomorrow."

"Okay," Jack said, nodding.

"You never know," Sam said. "Maybe we'll find the race who created that weapon and they can build another one for us, or take Amaunet out a different way."

"Maybe," Daniel said, going back to his notebook.

* * *

Jack noticed a car parked in the road with a man in it. The car was generic but relatively new; the guy was in civvies, a bit older than Jack. He seemed to be reading a book of some kind. Maybe waiting for someone; he didn't look too suspicious, but maybe Jack should keep an eye out. Jack pulled his truck into his driveway and grabbed the milk. He glowered at the garage—that was going to be the next project, Sam said. She wanted it cleared of boxes and organized enough so she could at least put her Volvo in it, and possibly his truck as well. Jack had no clue what all was in there; it was filled with a combination of stuff left over from the minor renovation he'd done when he bought the place and yet more boxes from his life with Sara that he'd never bothered to unpack. Truth be known, he hadn't packed them in the first place, either—Sara had taken care of that. Jack hated packing, and unpacking was even worse.

He set the milk jugs down on the step and fumbled with his keys. That was the other thing. Sam insisted on keeping the door locked when they weren't there, which was so much more hassle. He opened the door and picked up the milk again.

"Excuse me."

Jack turned around to see the guy from the parked car standing there. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"I thought Sam Carter lived here," the man said with a frown. He was several inches shorter than Jack and balding, and he carried himself well despite a slight middle-aged spread.

"She does," Jack said. "In fact, she's supposed to get here in a couple of minutes. Wanna come in and wait?"

The guy looked him up and down before nodding. "Sure," he said, still studying Jack with a hint of suspicion. Jack wasn't sure why; after all, Jack was the one inviting a stranger into his house, not the other guy.

Jack headed into the house. The guy followed, closing the door behind them. Jack put the milk in the fridge. Sam must have gone shopping while he was gone, because it was fuller than he remembered. He rearranged stuff to make room for the milk. It was a pretty small fridge; with the two of them in the house and a baby on the way, maybe they should get a bigger one.

"You gonna tell me who you are?" the guy said as he finished.

Jack raised an eyebrow. Considering it was _his_ house and the other guy hadn't introduced himself, either, that was a pretty belligerent tone. "Jack O'Neill. With two 'l's." He turned to face the guy more directly, arms crossed. "And you are?"

His question was ignored. "_Colonel_ Jack O'Neill? Air Force, Cheyenne Mountain, Project Blue Book?" The guy looked like he'd swallowed a lemon, sourness and outrage warring for control of his face.

"Yeah, that's me," Jack said. "And again. You are?"

They were interrupted by the door opening. "Honey, I'm home," Sam chirped, sounding much more cheerful than she had on base. "Guess what! I think I might have felt the baby move!"

Movement caught Jack's eye, and he turned back to the stranger just in time to see a fist swinging towards his face, too late to do anything about it. He was knocked to the floor, hitting his head on the fridge as he went down.

"_Dad!_"

Oh, _crap_.


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Yes, this is a shorter chapter than most, but the last two were longer than usual for this story, and like I said, my writing has slowed down lately.

* * *

Sam watched in horror as her Jack went down. "Why the hell did you do that?" she demanded as she hurried over and crouched down by Jack, who was sitting up and rubbing his head.

"He's your goddamn CO!" Dad said, in the tone of voice he used to dress down wayward lieutenants who had screwed up especially spectacularly. "We don't talk for a couple months, you don't tell me why you want to see me, I get out here and find out you've sublet your apartment. A call to George gets me your current address, and I get here to find you're not only shacked up with your CO, he's knocked you up! How the hell did you think I was going to react?"

Oh, boy. "First of all, he's not my CO any more. I was reassigned to another part of the base _before_ the relationship started. Which I know you know because I told you."

"How long before? Two days? Sam, you haven't been here long enough to get reassigned unless George had a damned good reason. And if you're pregnant enough to feel the baby already—"

"There were extenuating circumstances. You can ask General Hammond, if you don't believe me," Sam said through gritted teeth. "Second, if you'd _called_ ahead to say when you were going to be here, I'd have picked you up at the airport. Third, the reason I didn't tell you is because I wanted to tell you in _person_ that you were going to be a grandfather again, instead of over the phone." She turned back to Jack. "You okay?"

"Just peachy," Jack said. "So, that's Dad, huh?" He climbed to his feet, and Sam winced as she heard his knee pop. "Pleased to meet you." His voice was heavy with irony as he stuck his hand out. "Jack O'Neill."

"_Jack_," Sam said in exasperation. There was no need to annoy Dad further.

"Major General Jacob Carter," Dad said, glowering at him. But he did shake his hand, which was a good sign. "So, when are you two getting married?"

Jack opened his mouth.

"At this point," Sam cut him off; she couldn't trust him not to antagonize Dad, "we're not planning on it. Which was _my_ decision."

Dad glared at her. He probably wanted to blame Jack for corrupting his beloved daughter; having said daughter take firm credit for not even being engaged with a baby on the way wasn't what he wanted to hear. "So, just what _are_ your plans?"

"Well," Sam said before Jack could open his mouth, "right now we're living together. If, after we've lived together for a while, we get along well, we may get married. If not, I'll move out. Either way, we're not going to rush into anything permanent. While we're exploring our relationship, we're getting ready for the baby. And letting family know, which is why you're here." She crossed her arms. "So, now that you're here and you know, are you going to be civil and polite and get to know the father of your grandbaby, or am I going to have to ask you to leave until you cool down?"

Dad glared at Jack. "I'll behave."

Sam nodded firmly. "Good. Now, I'm hungry, and I want dinner. Are we going to stay here and cook something or go out to eat?"

"I don't care," Dad said.

"I could whip something up," Jack said, "give you two time to talk."

"Are you sure, Jack?" Sam asked. "You just got back a couple hours ago." Even more importantly, if they were in a public place such as a restaurant Dad might feel less willing to blow his top.

"I got it," Jack said. He gave her a quick kiss. "Go talk with your Dad."

Sam smiled at him. She'd just have to rely on the two men to keep their tempers. Could this go any worse? "Thanks." She turned back to Dad and gestured to the door to the hall. "Why don't I give you a quick tour and then we can settle down in the living room?"

"Sure," Dad said, gesturing for her to lead the way.


	9. Chapter 9

An: Bits and pieces of dialogue are recycled from "Secrets" in season two, in which we met Jacob for the first time. Thanks to the Yahoo transcript group for their hard work on the transcripts; thatmade it a lot easier for me. (moon-catchin (dot) net)

* * *

"So, pregnant, huh," Dad said as soon as they were out of earshot. "You know what that can do to your career. Particularly if you want to go into space." 

Sam counted to ten before answering. She knew, better than Dad ever could, just exactly what this pregnancy had taken from her. "Yes, Dad, I know," she said, trying to keep her voice even. The last thing she needed was to give Dad ammunition to use against Jack.

"I just hope he's worth it," Dad continued. "That the baby's worth it. You've never exactly been the maternal type, you know, and I wouldn't want you giving up the things you love for something you've never really cared that much about. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to be a grandfather. But I want you to be happy, too."

"I know, Dad," Sam said, sitting down on the bed. She ran a hand through her hair. God, she wished Dad could make up his mind. When she focused on her career he fussed over her lack of a personal life. When she had a personal life, he criticized how it would impact her career. "Anyway, even if I didn't want the baby, it's a little late to start thinking about that."

"Yeah," Dad said, sitting down next to her. "Obviously, for the next year or so, you're kind of stuck here. But after that … whatever it is you do in that mountain, deep space or no deep space, it can't be as exciting as the real thing. I'm talking about getting you into NASA, Sam. I'm talking about you actually going to space one day. It'd be more difficult with a kid, but you can do anything you put your mind to."

"What?" Sam asked, heart sinking. Oh, no. No. He wouldn't. He knew how she felt.

"You know Bollinger's an old friend of mine. Head of NASA? Sound familiar?"

"Please don't let this be going where I think it is, Dad," Sam said.

He ignored her. "I've been talking with him about you. I told him you've wanted to be an astronaut since you were a little girl. And that you'd given up—"

"I didn't give up!"

"Let me finish," Dad said, nudging her. "Given up waiting for the shuttle program to be reinstated after the Challenger disaster."

"Yeah, it was bad timing." Now was even worse timing—how could going up to Earth orbit on a shuttle ever compare with going to other _planets_ through a wormhole? But she couldn't exactly tell _Dad_ that. She tried to unclench her jaw.

"Yes, well, Bollinger's not the only guy I know at NASA," Dad went on, either oblivious to her lack of enthusiasm or trying hard to look that way. "I could talk to some people. You apply again, as an Air Force nominee, young lady, and I think you'll find NASA supportive."

"There's a waiting list a mile long." Sam crossed her arms over her chest.

"Not for you."

"Dad, you can't do that!" Sam said, holding on to her temper as firmly as she knew how. "I have _never_ wanted you to interfere in my career. I want to earn my place, not get there because I'm General Carter's daughter. And you _know_ that because I've asked you not to do stuff like this in the past!" Which was both true and the only one of her reasons she could tell Dad about why she didn't want NASA.

"You're telling me you don't want this?" And now Dad's temper was starting to show, too. "They know what you're capable of offering the Space Program, Samantha, they want you!"

"That's not the point!" Sam pushed herself up and started pacing, trying to think of any way she could to get through to him. "The work I am doing right now is very important to me. And I got here on _my_ merits, not yours."

"It's not your dream." Dad watched her, frowning. "Is this about him? That black ops nutcase you're shacked up with?"

"Nutcase?" Sam snorted. "You don't even know him. And in case you've forgotten, _you're_ the one who hit _him_, not the other way around. I wouldn't throw stones if I were you."

Dad ignored that outright. "I read his file and asked around when you were stationed here, and I didn't like what I heard. He's been in black ops almost his entire career, doing the kind of stuff nobody admits to even decades later. He's insubordinate, a loose cannon. After the hell Jonas put you through, you hook up with another guy from the lunatic fringe?"

"He is _nothing_ like Jonas," Sam growled, giving up any pretense of courtesy. "And he's going to be a permanent fixture in my life from now on, whether you like him or not. He's also going to be a permanent fixture in the life of your grandchild, so I'd suggest you keep that in mind. You want to know what kind of man he is? Get off your damned high horse and get to know him. At the very least, talk with General Hammond. _He_ knows what kind of a man Jack is, and I know you trust his judgment. Do you honestly think George Hammond would have a man like Jonas as his second in command?"

Dad shook his head. "Sam, George is only marking time until retirement. He's got another year to go, on the outside, before they put him out to pasture. Why bother rocking the boat?"

"Things change, Dad," Sam said. "General Hammond won't be retiring any time soon. You can ask him if you don't believe me. And he is most definitely _not_ marking time." The very idea was ridiculous, even if he _had_ been on the brink of retirement. And now that he was in charge of a front-line base—he'd gone to bat for his people all the way on up to the President, when needed. Even for Teal'c, who'd been an unknown alien at the time. He'd moved heaven and Earth to keep him not just out of the hands of the government's research facilities (though with Teal'c's permission, they were doing some limited research on him in the SGC under the watchful eyes of Janet), but on a front-line team. Sam shook her head.

"I don't care if he's some kind of saint, Sam," Dad said, changing his tactics. "I don't want you to have to give up your dreams because of him."

"I'm _not_," Sam said, ignoring the fact that it was a lie, just not in the way Dad thought it was. She shoved down all thoughts of her old spot on the top Stargate team. If Dad sensed any weakness or hesitation, he'd use it. "But my dreams have changed, Dad."

"So, now your dream is to sit at the bottom of a mountain and, what, analyze radar signals?" Dad looked at her, both eyebrows raised.

"I love my job," Sam said. She knew her folded arms looked defensive, but dropping them now would be more suspicious.

"Hey." Jack poked his head around the door, and Sam didn't know whether to kiss him for it or swear. "I got burgers and salad ready."

"Thanks," she said.

Dad shot her a look that said this wasn't over as he stalked out to the kitchen.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: I got absolutely _no_ writing done this week. This is why I make sure I always have more written than I'm going to post at a time; otherwise, it'd be a while between updates sometimes. Ack. Oh, well, here it is, the rest of the visit.

* * *

"So, General Carter," Jack said as they sat down to dinner. "I've heard nothing about you, Sir. Well, aside from the fact that you helped Sam build model rockets when she was ten. And that thing with the practical joke when she was twelve." Sam was giving him a Look that he hadn't seen her use before, but which was remarkably similar to one of Sara's. It meant _be quiet or there will be dire consequences._ He shut up.

General Carter dished himself some salad as if it was a … sensitive part of Jack's anatomy he was trying to dismember. "What's there to say about an old general waiting to retire?"

"Dad, I talk about you all the time," Sam said in a soothing tone of voice.

"I retired myself one time," Jack said, trying for some common ground. He wished Daniel were here; Daniel was good at small talk. "Couldn't stay away."

Sam's dad raised a cool eyebrow. "From your analysis of deep space radar telemetry," he said flatly.

_Crap_. "Well, it's just so damn fascinating."

"I'm sure it is." Carter, Sr. passed the salad to his daughter. "Otherwise Sammy here wouldn't prefer being stuck under a mountain to being in NASA. Because I'm sure that she would never let her personal life get in the way of her career."

"We have our moments." Jack gave him the most sincere smile he could. NASA? Her Dad was trying to get her in to NASA? Ouch. The SGC was _so_ much cooler, but it wasn't like she could tell the old man that without clearance, which she was _not_ likely to get. He tried to give her a sympathetic look, but she didn't notice it because she was too busy glaring at her Dad.

"As I told you earlier," she said through gritted teeth, "I love my job. Even if Jack and the baby didn't exist, that would not change. I would still tell you to mind your own damn business."

"At least talk to them, then. Do that much for me."

Sam's eyes narrowed. "I knew sooner or later you'd make this about you."

Ooh. This was like the World Wrestling Federation, only a lot more painful. There was a kind of horrifying fascination to it. "I'm sure Sam can figure out what she wants to do with her career on her own. Thanks for the advice, sir. Sam, I'm sure he means well." He tried to be as … soothing as he could. Sara had always complained about his lack of tact, but even _he_ realized that both Carters needed to cool down some. He tried to think back—had his first meeting with Sara's father been this bad? He didn't think so.

"And I'm sure _you've_ got Sam's career as your top priority," General Carter said. "What with knocking her up and shacking up with her the second she left your command. That'll really look good on her record. And I'm sure you're not influencing her to throw away all her dreams of space at all."

"Excuse me?" Jack raised his eyebrows. "We talking about the same Sam Carter? Can beat tribal leaders in knife fights, likes to blow stuff up, most brilliant scientist in the free world, takes no crap from anybody? That Sam Carter? She'd have my ass if I tried to tell her what to do. And if you think otherwise, maybe you don't know your daughter as well as you think you do, _General_. And maybe that's the problem, here." Okay, so it wasn't diplomatic, but the guy was really starting to piss him off.

"Knife fights? You got my little girl into _knife fights_? What kind of team do you lead, mister? Deep Space Radar Telemetry my ass."

Jack froze. _Crap_.

"Dad, drop it," Sam said, a note of command in her voice that Jack couldn't remember hearing before.

"Just between us, your cover stories could use a little polish." And maybe General Carter really _didn't_ know his daughter as well as he thought he did, because Jack sure as hell wouldn't have pushed her. Not with that expression on her face.

"Sorry, Dad, I don't know what you're talking about." Her voice was arctic.

Her father paused, and really looked at her for the first time since they'd sat down to eat. "No, of course not, I'm out of line." He nodded, slowly. "I'm sorry. You know I only want what's best for you. But it's your life and your career, of course."

He turned to his dinner, attacking it single-mindedly.

"Apology accepted, Dad," Sam said, her voice thawing a little.

Well. Round One to Carter, Junior. And he wasn't about to break the truce by opening his big fat mouth again any time soon. No, sirree. Momma O'Neill didn't raise geniuses, but she didn't raise idiots, either.

Sam concentrated on her meal, ignoring the looks Dad was shooting her, as she tried to figure out something to talk about that wouldn't result in another fight. Jack wasn't being much help, for which she could only be grateful given his capacity to say the wrong thing. She usually found his big mouth and, to put it tactfully, directness, to be endearing (or at least amusing). Tonight? Not so much. This was why she'd wanted to break the news to Dad _without_ him there. On the other hand … Dad was pretty good at being an ass himself, when he wanted to be. As he was proving tonight.

She hadn't really noticed before how much alike the two were. It was … kind of scary, actually.

She set that thought aside for later consideration. "So, Dad, will you be staying with us or in a hotel?"

"I'm already checked in to the Holiday Inn downtown. The last I heard from you, you only had a one-bedroom apartment, and I didn't want to get stuck on the couch."

"Do you have any plans for tomorrow?" she asked.

"Actually, I do," Dad said. "Unless you've got time off and had something in mind?"

Sam shook her head.

"Well, when I got your address from George, he said he could take tomorrow off and take me golfing."

"I'm sure you'll enjoy catching up with everything that's happened since you two were stationed together," Sam said, fixing herself another hamburger. "And maybe he can give you his perspective on recent events."

Dad put down his fork. "Sam, if you can look me straight in the eye and tell you there was no unprofessional conduct of any kind between you and _him_," he jerked his thumb at Jack, "before you were transferred off his team, and that there's nothing that can cause you professional trouble down the line, I won't have to ask him."

Damn it. _Damn_ it. She'd never been able to lie to him, or even mislead him, about the things that really mattered. "There isn't anything."

There was a moment of silence while Dad studied her. "_Right_." He went back to his dinner.

"Dad," she said desperately, trying to think of something to say. She stared down at her plate, trying to control her emotions, damning the pregnancy hormones that magnified every feeling. "Excuse me," she said, climbing to her feet and heading out as quickly as she could without running.

"Way to go, _Dad_," she heard Jack say behind her.

"Sam—" Dad said.

She ignored them both, heading to her—their—bedroom, closing the door behind her and curling up on the bed as she fought for control.

Someone knocked at the door, gently. She ignored it; she didn't have the strength to deal with either man now without falling apart. The door opened anyway; she didn't turn to see who it was, annoyed at the invasion of her privacy and hoping he'd just go _away_.

Instead, she felt a hand on her back, rubbing gently. "Hey," Jack said. "C'mere." He turned her around so she fit against him better and wrapped his arms around her. Needing the comfort, Sam hugged him back and let the tears come.


	11. Chapter 11

AN: Sorry for the week with no updates, folks. Switching everything to my new laptop took rather longer than I was anticipating. I tried to make this chapter slightly longer as a result.

* * *

Jack rubbed her back slowly as she cried on his shoulder; he knew her well enough to figure she was probably embarrassed with how she'd broken down emotionally. He didn't really know what to say that wouldn't make it worse, so he stayed quiet. Sam was enough of a talker that if she had something to say, she'd let it out. Not like him, that way. Jack was more prone to hold things in until they ate him up inside. It kept you going on long missions, kept your guard up all the time, but as a life strategy it … had its drawbacks. It had cost him his marriage to Sara, in the end, and almost killed Daniel, Ska'ara, Sha're and everyone else on Abydos, including him.

After a few minutes she swiped a hand across her eyes to wipe away the tears. "I'm sorry, Jack." She hadn't sat up, so he couldn't see her face, but she wasn't clinging as hard.

"No, it's fine," Jack said. "Everybody needs a shoulder to cry on, sometimes. I'm just glad I can be yours."

"It's these _stupid_ hormones," Sam went on. "I'm not usually like this, I swear."

"Even more reason to indulge you now."

"It's just … I can stand having Dad angry at me. God knows it's happened before. But the idea," Sam swallowed, and he could feel her start to tremble a little, "of him being disappointed or ashamed …"

"Yeah," Jack said, when she didn't continue. He'd taken a bit of pleasure, over the years, in setting his dad off. His mother was a whole different story, though.

"And we can't tell him anything," Sam went on. "It's not my fault, I didn't do anything wrong, but there's nothing I can say to him that would convince him because everything is classified. And the deal with NASA—God, if I didn't have the SGC, and he offered me that? Except I don't even have the Stargate anymore. All I do is sit in a lab and analyze the stuff that _other_ people have brought back. I might as well be in Area 52! They wanted me there, they said that top scientists don't belong in the field, but I asked Hammond and he brought me in. And I was _good_ at being a field officer, it was everything I'd ever dreamed, but because of that _fucking_ virus I'm grounded and my Dad thinks I'm some stupid bimbo who can't keep her pants on and was caught with her CO! And if I ever come before a promotions board that doesn't know about the SGC, or doesn't care, that's what _they're_ going to think, too."

Jack just kept rubbing her back. It was the only thing he could do.

"Hey."

Sam looked up from the report she was typing to see Daniel standing in the door of her lab. "Hey."

He pushed his glasses up his nose. "So, Jack says your Dad is visiting."

"Yeah," Sam said, voice even. "He showed up last night without calling ahead."

"How'd it go?"

"Well, the evening started with him punching Jack." Sam shook her head and took a sip of the herbal tea that was the closest thing to coffee Janet would allow her. "It went downhill from there."

Daniel winced. "That … doesn't sound good."

"Nope." Sam frowned at her screen and went back to typing, hoping Daniel would figure out she didn't want to talk and either change the subject or, even better, leave.

"Were there any more physical fights, or was it all verbal from there on out?"

"Verbal." She heard the rustling of Daniel's BDUs as he took a seat on one of her stools. It looked like her luck was holding. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to figure out a way to translate the equations into something her superiors (most of whom were not astrophysicists) would understand.

"With you stuck in the middle trying to play peacemaker, I take it?"

Sam bit her lip. "Actually, for most of it _Jack_ was the one stuck in the middle trying to play peacemaker."

"Ow!" Daniel said. "I'm … sorry. That's kind of scary, actually."

"Tell me about it," Sam said, shaking her head and giving up on the report. "He actually didn't do all _that_ bad a job, most of the time. It's just that … I didn't realize how alike he and my father are in a lot of ways. Jack's a bit more irreverent, and my Dad never tries to hide his intelligence, but other than that?" She shrugged. "Anyway, they did a great job of pissing each other off, despite Jack's best efforts."

"Yeah, I can imagine." Daniel's voice was warm with sympathy. He studied her. "So, are you uncomfortable because you're trying to avoid thinking about the situation with your Dad, or are you mad at me for some reason?"

Sam sat back. "Actually? A little of both. Though, I'm not sure that 'mad' is the best word for it."

Daniel folded his arms across his chest. "So, what would be a good word for it? Because you've been avoiding me for a couple of weeks, now, and if there's something I can do to fix that, I'd like to know."

"It's not anything you can fix, Daniel," Sam said with a sigh, rubbing her shoulder.

"Then what is it?"

"I was on the team of scientists working on the gate, when Catherine Langford first got the project started up," Sam said, choosing her words with care. "I spent two years as the science liaison in Washington, trying to get the program up and running. Getting the funding and the patronage to get what we needed was incredibly difficult, and I hated trying to work from half a continent away from the artifact we were experimenting on. I was supposed to be on the first team through it, partly as a reward and partly for technical and scientific support if we ran into any difficulties. Then they brought you in, and you figured out how to make it work, and General West took our team apart. We scientists were told that we were too valuable to risk; that may have been true, but West never made much of a secret of how he felt about women in the military. And you were allowed to go."

"Well, considering how he acted around me, that may have been more due to the fact that he didn't really care that much whether I survived or not," Daniel put in. "I mean, my only connection to the program or the military was translating the cover stone, and that was already done. I was expendable, and it wasn't like anyone back home was going to miss me if I didn't come back. Besides, at that point they couldn't have sent a team without me, because we didn't know how the DHDs worked or Earth's address if we had known."

Sam shrugged. "Whatever the reason, you got to go and none of us, the one's who'd spent years on the project, could. And then everything was shut down and all our research was buried, and we had _nothing_. By the time Apophis came through, West was in other projects; I was called in as a Stargate expert, and convinced General Hammond to let me go through the gate this time. I've always had to be better than the guys, as a scientist and as an officer, to get the same opportunities. I've worked _damn_ hard my whole life to get where I am. Where I was. And now I'm stuck in a lab again, but you're still on the team." Sam made herself meet his eyes. "I know, it's not your fault, and there's nothing you could do to change it. But it still hurts."

"Yeah," Daniel said. He shook his head. "I had no idea, Sam, I'm sorry. For what it's worth, I'd have argued with West to put you on the team if I'd known at the time."

Sam smiled sadly. "I know. It wouldn't have changed anything, but thanks for the thought."

"Well, it's about all I can do for you," Daniel said with a shrug. He hesitated. "Actually, I was kind of wondering if you blamed me for Jack getting … infected on Argos. Except, if that was it, I couldn't figure out why you weren't giving Teal'c the same treatment."

"Teal'c is an alien warrior," Sam pointed out. "You're the cultural expert. The Argosians weren't goa'uld or anything else Teal'c was familiar with. Besides, I don't think they have date-rape drugs on Chulak. They do here on Earth. I know, intellectually, that there probably wasn't anything you could have done to prevent it, but that doesn't make it feel better. And I wasn't even _there_ when it happened!" She rubbed her eyes. "I know that I'm not really being fair to you. And I'm sorry. It's just …"

"You're under a lot of stress," Daniel said. "It has to come out somewhere. We're both workaholics, and I know I bury myself in my work when I'm upset or stressed, but Jack is making you cut your overtime back, and that can't help. And, again, you're being restricted and I'm not."

"Actually," Sam said, fighting back an evil grin. She stopped.

"'Actually,' what?" Daniel said suspiciously.

"I shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Jack wouldn't like it."

"Jack is a sadistic control freak, and you know it as well as I do."

Sam forced down a giggle at Daniel's expression.

"Come on, Sam, it's me. Daniel. Your fellow scientist. If Jack's planning something—"

"He is."

After a minute Daniel prompted her. "And the plan is?"

"You know how Teal'c has been taking over some of your language teaching duties?"

"Yeah," Daniel said suspiciously. "It's freed up my time so I can concentrate more on translating and analysis." He paused, frowning. "Which Teal'c is also helping with. He's going to sic Teal'c on me, isn't he? To get me out of the mountain. Once my workload has been reduced and my guard is down."

"See?" Sam said. "You didn't need my help after all. Which is good, because you're _not_ going to get my help in figuring out how to get around the two of them."

"I'm not?" Daniel said, with a wounded expression.

"You're not," Sam confirmed heartlessly. "You can't tell me Jack wrote that ridiculous note he made me sign. It was _far_ too polished for him. Teal'c doesn't have that command of English yet, and he doesn't know anything about the way legal documents are worded on this planet, anyway. Janet would have warned me, Feretti would be cracking jokes about it, and I don't think General Hammond would have participated in it. Jack doesn't really have any other friends on the base, so that leaves you. So you're on your own, and let's see how _you_ like it."

The look on Daniel's face was priceless.


	12. Chapter 12

AN: I have finally started writing on this again. 500 words in three weeks--yikes. Anyway, hopefully now that I've got Word on my shiny new laptop and can transfer all my files over, that will improve.

* * *

At 1500, Sam knocked on General Hammond's door. His door frame, actually, because the door itself was open as usual.

"Come in, Captain, and have a seat," he said, looking up from his paperwork. He gave her a sympathetic glance. "I just got back from a round of golf with your father, and I thought you'd appreciate knowing that I went to bat for you and Colonel O'Neill. Jacob still has severe reservations about the whole thing, but I did what I could."

"Thank you, sir," Sam said. "I'm afraid the only way to change his mind would be to tell him about the virus and everything."

"I'm afraid that's not possible," General Hammond said with a shake of his head.

"I know, sir," Sam replied. "And I completely understand. But I'm sure I'm not the only one of the Broca victims whose life would be much easier if that weren't the case."

"No."

"And I do appreciate you trying to help."

The General nodded. "Jake's an old friend, and you and Jack O'Neill are two of my best people. It was the least I could do. I don't want to see you end up like Mark. How long has it been since he and Jacob have spoken?"

"Years," Sam said, surprised he was aware of the rift. She hadn't known he and her father were that close.

"Sometimes your father is just too stubborn for his own good."

"I'd have to agree with you there," Sam said. "At this point, I just hope he and Jack can learn to tolerate each other. Last night's dinner was … tense."

"I can imagine," Hammond said. "Considering the circumstances and their personalities, I'd have to call that an understatement."

Sam shrugged. "Yes, sir. We're going out to eat, tonight. Hopefully a public venue will contain the reactions on all sides."

"Hopefully," Hammond said, doubt lacing his voice.

* * *

"I won't be long," Sam said as she headed to the bedroom to get ready for dinner.

Jack just grunted. As far as he was concerned, anything that put off the evening's activities was a good thing; she could take as long as she wanted. He'd changed out of his fatigues at the base, so he was good to go.

Wandering into the living room, he saw there was a new message. "Jack, this is your sister Peggy. Michael says he hasn't been able to get a hold of you, so I'm trying. Please call one of us back. I know you're an anti-social cuss at the best of times, but please do the right thing for once and don't be a stranger. You have my number, right? It's (773)891-2625."

Jack made a face as the machine beeped. He stabbed the delete button. Because one family fight at a time? _So_ enough. He'd call them back after the thing with Sam's Dad was taken care of, preferably with Carter, Sr. far, far away.

* * *

"So, George tells me you're one of his best officers," Jacob said as he cut his steak into small pieces. "He wants me to cut you a little slack. He says I should get to know you before I make up my mind. So talk."

Jack shrugged. "Not much to tell, really," he said. "Enlisted right out of high school, did some search-and-rescue work in Nam, went to OCS and became a career officer, got married. Eventually retired and got divorced. Got called back up. And now I work under a mountain." He kind of wished they'd gone somewhere else, maybe that Mexican place downtown. This was a nice restaurant, but Sara's dad had taken the two of them out eat at a place like this shortly after they got engaged, just before Jack left on his first overseas tour.

"Doing Deep Space Radar Telemetry, which you were brought back in for because no one else could _possibly_ do your job."

"That's what they told me." Jack glanced over at Sam. She was hardly paying any attention at all to her food, concentrating on the conversation instead. She was tense, more so than usual.

"Despite the fact that you've never been assigned to a technical project before." Jacob—he'd insisted Jack use his first name, which Jack supposed was … progress—said with a voice dry as the Sahara.

"Yup." Didn't the guy care what this was doing to his daughter? I mean, she didn't need any more stress in her condition. And, yeah, if she'd been his daughter he'd be giving himself the third degree; he knew exactly where the older man was coming from. But he wouldn't heap this much grief on _her_.

"And before you retired, what exactly was it that you did?"

"A little of this, a little of that. Some extractions, some intelligence missions, some TACP. I went where they sent me."

"So, you were in special operations?"

"Yeah."

There was a brief lull in the conversation.

"So, special ops." Jacob sat back, pushing his plate forward. "You served under Colonel Jesus Sanchez for a while, didn't you?"

"What, did you run a background check on him?" Sam broke in.

"After the _last_ guy you got serious about, can you blame me?"

"Yeah, I served under him," Jack broke in, trying to draw fire from Sam. Hell. At least Mike hadn't been taking it out at Sara.

"He didn't like you much. Says you're a loose canon."

"He's entitled to his opinion," Jack said as neutrally as possible. "If General Hammond shared it, I wouldn't be working for him."

Jacob snorted. "George likes characters, says they keep him on his toes. He's had problems with discipline sometimes, because of it."

"I've always found the General's methods of establishing discipline to be effective," Jack said levelly.

"You have first-hand experience with them, do you?"

"He's General Hammond's executive officer," Sam said. "He's usually the one who has to implement or enforce them."

"Of course," Jacob said, implying the opposite.

Jack took a deep breath and held it, trying to remind himself that he had to play nice with this guy for Sam's sake. Right now, he couldn't see a downside to ending the relationship. "Yeah, I was in special ops, but Sam learned a lot from that maniac Jonas. She's a smart woman, and she doesn't make the same mistake twice. And I had problems with Sanchez. And, okay, maybe the circumstances surrounding my relationship with Sam could be better. But I am _damn_ well gonna do my best to support her and the baby as much as she'll let me. She's a tough, professional, wonderful woman and I get that she's way too good for me. But she's got enough stress right now without you adding to it." Jack shook his head. "I don't expect you to like me, or anything. But don't take your anger out on her."

"I'm not taking anything out on her," Jake said, eyes narrowing.

Jack looked at him incredulously. "Maybe not directly, but have you _looked_ at your daughter recently? The thing is, last night, you reduced her to tears. And normally, she doesn't need anyone to protect her. Right now, between the pregnancy hormones and last night, is a different story."

"Jack," Sam said.

"Sorry." Jack took her hand and squeezed it; she looked like she could use the comfort. The skin around her mouth and eyes was tight with tension, and her skin was pale even for her.

"Sam, I _am_ sorry for last night," Jacob said.

Jack glanced at him, surprised to find him actually looking at his daughter for once.

"Apology accepted, Dad," Sam said. "I know that you're upset and disappointed. But please, just for now, can you try and support my choices rather than trying to make them for me? Or a truce, at least."

Jacob sat back in his chair and studied his daughter. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but Jack could have sworn the guy looked older, more worn. More human. He shook his head and it was gone.

"Okay, fair enough," Jacob said. "I just wanted—" He sat forward, taking up his knife and fork, again. "So, Jack, you into football?"

Jack raised an eyebrow, but he wasn't about to complain at the change of subject. "Not really. Hockey's more my thing."

"Can't say I know much about hockey," Jacob replied. "How about basketball? I'm a Bulls fan, myself."

"Really?" Jack replied, glancing over at Sam. She wasn't exactly all smiles, but much of the tension was gone. Time to play nice. "I grew up in Chicago. My Dad took me to see them play, a few times. I follow the Timberwolves, though."


	13. Chapter 13

AN: And the plot thickens. Mwahahaha.

* * *

"Would anyone like some dessert?"

Sam turned to glance at the waiter. "None for me, thanks," she said. "I'm stuffed."

"Me too," Jack said.

"I'm not hungry," Dad said, pushing his plate forward an inch.

Sam glanced at his plate as the waiter deposited the check. "You sure, Dad?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Dad said.

"You left an awful lot on your plate." She frowned. "I don't know if I've ever seen you _not_ finish a good steak before. You feeling okay?"

"I said I'm _fine_, Samantha." That was more of a growl than he usually used on her. Stung, Sam sat back.

"Well, if we're all done, what say we go home? I know I've got an early day at work tomorrow." Jack made a face, and Sam could have kissed him for the way he interrupted. "Training new recruits. Gotta love it."

"Oh, I know what you mean," Dad said. He still didn't seem to like Jack, but at least he wasn't constantly sniping at him. "Never ceases to amaze me, the stunts some kids pull." He reached for the check.

"I could take care of it," Jack said.

Dad shot him a look Sam wasn't quite sure how to interpret; she thought it might have something to do with caveman male dominance rituals regarding providing for the family. "No, I got it," he said firmly.

Jack shrugged, standing up. He held Sam's chair as she got up, grabbing her coat for her. Sam would have been more impressed by his courtliness if she wasn't sure it was due to her father's presence. Also, it kind of annoyed her. She was perfectly capable of doing it herself and she knew he'd never have bothered if it weren't for the baby. She ignored the annoyance. Jack was doing it to be nice.

By the time they were collected and ready to go, Dad was almost done at the register. Jack put his arm around Sam as they waited for him, and Sam leaned into him. She _was_ tired. She'd been planning to go over some of the Stargate's power consumption figures, but worn out as she was, she didn't think she'd get much accomplished.

Dad finished and turned around. He gave a slight frown when he saw them standing together, but didn't say anything. Instead, he gestured to the door. "Shall we?"

As they walked out into the parking lot, something occurred to Sam. "Dad?"

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"Is there anything going on in your life that you haven't told me about? I mean," she hurried to explain, "you seemed kind of tired, all night, and when you agreed to back off I kind of got the feeling there was something you weren't saying."

He shrugged, getting out the keys to his rental car. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"You sure?" She snuggled in to Jack's side, using his body as a wind block.

Having gotten the driver's door open, Dad leaned against the car. He appraised her for a few seconds. "I have cancer, Sam."

"What?" It felt like the bottom was dropping out of her world. Jack's hold on her tightened.

"Lymphoma." Dad shrugged, his feelings hidden behind an impenetrable façade as always.

"That's bad," Sam said, biting her lip.

"Well, it's not good." Dad gave her a small smirk. "But it's not the worst. Don't you worry. I'll be around for a while."

"Oh, God, Dad."

He shook his head. "There's still a few more treatments the docs want to try. And if worst comes to worst, I was hoping to at least stick around long enough to see you become an astronaut." He paused. "Sweetheart, I don't care what it is you do in that mountain, nothing in the world can live up to the chance to actually go into space. Not for you—it's something you're wanted your whole life. And I admit it, I want to see you fulfill your life's dreams before I die."

"It's my dream, doesn't that make it up to me?" She blinked back tears, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Fathers have dreams too, Sam."

She could feel Jack tensing, and knew he was about to break in with some defense of her that could only make the situation worse.

Fortunately, Dad went on before he could say anything. "Like I said, even in the very worst-case scenario this thing's going to go on for at least a year, so you don't have to check up on me daily or anything. The next round of chemo doesn't start for a few weeks, and I'll be in the Springs until then, at least. I may even get an apartment here and have the chemo at the Academy hospital. We can get together for lunch on Sundays, or something." He slipped into his car and closed the door.

Sam stood there in shock, watching him drive away.

"C'mere," Jack said, turning her towards him and wrapping his arms around her. She buried her face in his shoulder and cried.

* * *

"Don't you have any warmer coats?" Jack asked as they got ready to leave the next morning. "This is the Rockies. It gets cold in the winter."

"I know," Sam said, swinging her briefcase to her shoulder and heading out the door. "But my last posting was DC, and Texas before that, so I didn't exactly need a good winter coat, and I haven't gotten around to getting one yet." She started digging for her keys.

"I got it," Jack said, closing the door behind them and sliding the key into the deadbolt. "Well, I'm sure you and Janet will have a fun shopping … outing, some time soon."

"Janet and I, huh. Sure you don't want to come with?" She didn't feel much like joking, but Jack was so worried about her after last night's news.

Jack shot her a filthy look. "Not on your life."

As they got into his truck, they didn't hear the phone start to ring. After several rings, the answering machine kicked in. "Hi, this is Michael. Again. Jack, if you're there, pick up." Pause. "Okay, guess not. I was hoping to catch you before you left in the morning. Anyway, I'm going to be in your area this week, which is why I've been trying to reach you. If you don't return my call, I'm gonna try swinging by your house when I'm in the Springs; I've got the address from Sarah. Hopefully, I'll see you."


	14. Chapter 14

AN: Okay, here's the first major break from canon besides Sam's pregnancy. Bonus points to the first person who picks up on it.

* * *

Jack sat in the commissary, working on the never-ending paperwork that afflicted military personnel the world over. He'd spent the morning in Sam's lab.

"How's it going?"

He looked up as Daniel slid into the chair opposite him. "Fine. They're having a physical assessment of skills this week for everyone who goes through the Gate, and everyone who might go through the gate in the future."

"What for?" Daniel asked. He studied the food on his tray. "Y'know, I didn't think I'd ever find food as gross as the stuff they served in my undergrad cafeteria."

Jack snorted. "They don't call it 'shit on a shingle' for nothing." He scraped a little bit of leftover Jell-o out of his dish. "Anyway, somebody finally put two and two together and figured out that going through the Stargate is dangerous, and that sometimes we're gonna need people to go through who aren't military. They wanna make sure that everyone is physically fit and can at least provide covering fire if things go south on a mission."

"Isn't that about a year and a half too late?" Daniel frowned. "I mean, I had no physical assessment before we left for Abydos the first time; hell, nobody even asked if I knew how to use the gun they issued me. It's just good luck that I'd learned to shoot on a dig."

"Yes, it was good luck," Jack said. He shoved down a twinge of guilt at how poorly he'd handled that mission. He'd neglected much of his responsibility, almost sleepwalking through the days until that last desperate assault on Ra's ship. If he'd paid more attention to his men, a few more might have survived; at the very least, they'd have given Ra's warriors a better account of themselves. "And they don't want to depend on it in the future. See, the thing about luck is, eventually it runs out. And then you need good training and equipment."

"Makes sense, I guess. So, when am I scheduled?"

"Today at two work for you?"

Daniel checked his watch. "Should work. Oh, did you hear about the delivery we got this morning? Somebody found a bunch of old file boxes with Stargate stuff in them tucked away somewhere. They've been put in the briefing room until we can go over them. Want to go through them with me?"

"Not really," Jack said. "I've got more than enough paperwork of my own, thanks." He picked up the folder in front of him.

"Okay."

They sat in companionable silence for a while as Daniel ate and Jack worked.

"Something wrong?" Daniel asked.

"What?" Jack looked up at him. "No, why?"

Daniel shrugged. "You just seem more restless than usual, even for doing paperwork."

"_I'm_ fine," Jack said.

"And Sam?"

Jack shook his head. "I don't know how she's doing."

"Problems at dinner last night?"

"It got off to a rough start. The middle went okay, but he dropped a bombshell on her right before he left. At least we've got tonight off to recover—he won't be coming over." Jack snorted and closed the file he'd just finished. "I'm telling you, Daniel, I've got serious problems with that jerk."

Daniel frowned. "That sounds bad. Maybe I should check in on her, see how she's doing?"

"Be my guest. She threw me out this morning, saying I was fidgeting too much."

"Right." Daniel checked his watch. "I think I'll go do that now. Those old files can wait a day or two."

* * *

"Hey, Daniel," Sam said absently as her former teammate sauntered in to her office, hands in his pockets. "What brings you here?"

Daniel shrugged. "I was just talking with Jack. He says your dad dropped a bombshell on you last night."

Sam pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yeah, that's one way of putting it," she said. "He has cancer. Lymphoma. He just … threw it out there and left. But not before using it as the cap to a guilt trip to make me fall in with his plans for me."

"Oh, Sam, I'm sorry," Daniel said. He unfolded his arms, hands moving restlessly at his sides.

"Yeah," Sam said sourly. "So am I. I just—why does he always do this to me? I'm not his little baby girl any more. I have a life of my own. I know it's not exactly the life he wanted for me, but I'm good at what I do and I love doing it. I love him, too. I shouldn't have to choose between pleasing him and pleasing me. Isn't there some way we can both be happy? I just want us to be comfortable with each other. I want us to get along. Especially now that—" She broke off, shaking her head and forcing back tears. "And you know what the worst part is? If he _really_ knew what I do for a living, he'd be so proud of me. But he doesn't, and I can't tell him. I—" she sniffed and looked up at Daniel. "Are all families like this? Dad and my brother Mark haven't spoken in years, and Jack's doesn't really talk with his family, either."

Daniel looked aside for a second before giving her a wistful smile. "I wouldn't know, Sam. My parents were killed in an accident when I was eight."

"Oh, Daniel," Sam said, dismayed. "I'm sorry. I had no idea. I shouldn't have gone on like this."

He shook his head. "No, that's okay. It was …" he hesitated "…it was a long time ago. And you're right, you have every right to be upset over the way your Dad is acting. Just, I don't know."

He looked away, and if he'd seemed even a bit less rigid and self-contained, Sam would have taken his hand and squeezed it. Daniel was calm, controlled, the very picture of composure. If she didn't know how passionate a man he normally was about, well, everything, she'd have thought him completely unmoved. As it was, his stillness screamed pain. This was an old grief, not the new rawness of Sha're's capture. She wondered, if they never found Sha're, would Daniel disappear into this cool façade whenever she was mentioned, or would he let them in to help console him?

"Be glad you have him for as long as he's around," Daniel continued. "Even if it's not perfect."

Sam nodded. "I know."


	15. Chapter 15

AN: So, nobody actually got it. The major canon change: those files Daniel mentioned were the ones he was looking at during the opening scenes of The Torment of Tantalus. Given how closely they cut it in the original episode, delaying watching the files for a day or so means that by the time the dial the planet the DHD will have fallen into the ocean and the Stargate will be buried. Which means they never see the UN thing for the Four Great Races, and that Ernest stays marooned (if he survives the collapse of the building).

Backing up to get a running start at this scene.

* * *

"Be glad you have him for as long as he's around," Daniel continued. "Even if it's not perfect."

Sam nodded. "I know." Daniel was still inside his shell. "So, what's the team like now that there are only the three of you?" It wasn't something they'd ever discussed, but she thought it was worth a little pain to draw him out, and it wasn't like things were going to change any time soon. She might as well get used to it.

Daniel shrugged. "Actually, things are about the same. Jack cracks jokes. He does swear a little more, and some of his jokes are a bit more off-color, but it's not that big a change. I doubt I'd notice if I weren't a linguist. Teal'c … still doesn't talk much."

"So, it wasn't just me?" Sam asked. "I kind of wondered. On Chulak, the only women we came across were in the slave pens with us. I mean, the monks were male, the Jaffa were male. And I don't think he realized I wasn't a guy until we were back in the SGC and I took off my vest. He kind of gave me a double-take."

Daniel shrugged. "Well, I'm pretty sure that Jaffa society is patriarchal, but from what I can tell he treats you and me about the same—I don't think Jaffa society has all that many scholars, and I'm fairly certain that what scholars they do have don't mix much with Apophis's warriors. Teal'c's got that warrior bond thing going on with Jack, but they still don't talk much."

"Jack talks a lot," Sam objected. "Sometimes the hard part is getting him to shut up."

"Yes, but he doesn't really _say_ anything while he's chattering," Daniel said patiently. "The signal-to-noise ratio is very low. When Teal'c opens his mouth, the signal-to-noise ratio is through the roof, but he opens it so seldom that the amount of stuff the two of them actually talk about isn't all _that_ much different."

"I hadn't thought of it that way," Sam said, "but you have a point." She frowned. "When is your next mission? Jack hasn't said anything."

Daniel shrugged. "I'm not completely sure, actually. Nothing for a couple of weeks—I think they've decided that the best way of handling team rotation is having one team 'on call,' so to speak, and have the rest on standby, writing reports and researching and all the other miscellaneous stuff that needs to be done around here. I don't mind the break in offworld missions, as long as it's just temporary. They found several boxes of files from the Forties—apparently, they were researching the Gate then. I'm going to go through them, see if there's anything interesting."

"Let me know if you do," Sam said.

"Of course. We've also got physical evaluations starting," he glanced at his watch, "in a little over an hour, so by the time I got to the briefing room and got into the files it would be time to get ready for that. I don't know how long the tests are going to take." He frowned. "Jack says they want to make sure that everyone who goes through the Gate is actually fit to do so. It's a good idea, but wouldn't it have made more sense to do it _before_ we started going through the Gate?"

"Probably," Sam agreed, "but it wasn't like we had a lot of time to do so between Apophis' first appearance and the mission to Chulak—time is critical in rescue operations. Besides, you were the only civilian, and you'd spent the last year living on another planet—if that didn't prepare you for going through the Gate, nothing would. But now the bureaucracy has caught up with events."

"Okay." Daniel shook his head. "Anyway, the list of people I gave them for recruiting is starting to do some good, now; I've got two people coming in next week, and I'll have to get them oriented and started on learning Goa'uld. And all that is on top of my normal translation duties."

"Ah. So, the new people: anyone you know personally, or only by reputation?"

"One I've never met, but the other was a grad student of mine."

"Really? We'll have to have him over to our house for a party or something, once he gets settled in."

Daniel winced. "Um. I'm not sure how wise that would be, actually. Robert—he's more of a geek than I am. Jack knows me, so he doesn't give me too much grief about it. I wouldn't want to spring him on an unsuspecting stranger, though."

Sam smiled. It felt like the first time she'd done so in ages. "I guess you're right."

* * *

"So, what sounds good tonight?" Jack asked as they pulled into their driveway. It had taken some fancy talking, but he'd managed to convince her to come home an hour early today to take advantage of their free evening.

"I don't know," Sam said. "It's probably my turn to cook, but I really don't feel up to it." She tried to cover up a yawn.

"No problem," Jack said. "How about spaghetti?" Sam had pretty broad tastes, and so far hadn't developed any cravings; that made her easy to cook for.

"Sure."

Jack made sure he got to the door before her, keys out and ready. He couldn't make her Dad less of an asshole and he couldn't get her back on the team, but he could take care of whatever little hassles came her way. "Why don't you go get into something more comfortable while I cook."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Jack."

"As in, something that _is_ more comfortable," Jack amended hastily. He was fairly sure that if she were under less stress, she would have taken it with humor. "Sweats, or something, and curl up on the couch with a good book or something.

"Okay."

* * *

"Supper's ready."

Sam looked up from her laptop, dark circles under her eyes, and Jack had to bite his tongue to keep from bringing up her work habits. He made it a point not to piss off pregnant women who were as good with explosives as Sam's file said she was. Okay, so it wasn't exactly something that had ever come up before, but he thought it would be a good thing to remember for the next several months. "Smells good," she said, hauling herself up and following him back around the dividing wall that separated the living room from the kitchen.

"I try," Jack said. "Did you get much done?" he asked, helping himself to carrots while Sam gave herself a heaping serving of spaghetti.

"Hm? Oh, just now?" Sam said, passing it to him. "Not really. I was having a bit of trouble concentrating."

Loves explosives, Jack thought to himself, biting his tongue. Pregnancy hormones. And she knows where I live. "So, did it ever occur to you to, oh, actually stop working now that you're not actually _at_ work at the moment and relax?"

"Jack," Sam said, unamused. "Don't even start."

They ate in silence for a while.

"So, do you have anything in mind to do tonight?"

Jack looked up from his second helping of spaghetti. "Not really. Just hanging out, relaxing, not having to deal with any crap."

"I kind of feel like watching a movie," Sam admitted. "Popcorn, lights down, the whole nine yards. Don't want to go out, though," she grimaced, "I really don't want to have to get dressed and looking decent, again."

"I think you look fine," Jack said mildly.

"U_huh_," Sam said, glancing down at her sweats. "Right."

"You do," Jack said. "What do you want to watch?" He steeled himself for a chick flick; with the week Sam had had, he'd even watch the Lifetime Movie of the Week if it would make her happy.

"I'm kind of in the mood for big explosions," Sam said with a serious expression. "You wouldn't happen to have Lethal Weapon, would you?"

Jack fell in love with her all over again right then and there.


	16. Chapter 16

AN: And here we meet Michael. For those with loving, supporting families, I actually had a friend in college who had to sit through a conversation just like this one, where her boyfriend's family tried to warn her off him.

* * *

Ten minutes into the movie, she was asleep on the couch, snuggled in Jack's arms. He turned the volume down to avoid disturbing her and thought. Maybe Janet would be able to convince her to slow down a bit? He'd tried everything short of chaining her up and refusing to let her go in to work, and it obviously wasn't enough. 

About the time Riggs and Murtaugh sat down to dinner with family, there was a knock at the door. Jack eased himself out from under Sam and went to answer it; she stirred, but didn't seem to wake up. He wondered who it was; the SGC would have called ahead, and their friends didn't come over that often. Maybe Sam would like to have a party or something—show off the house, talk with friends about non-work-related stuff. He opened the door.

"Hello, Jack."

He blinked. "Michael. This is a surprise."

"Yeah, well, if you answered your phone occasionally, it wouldn't be," Michael shot back. "I've been trying to get a hold of you for almost a month. Peggy's tried, too. You gonna let me in, or what?"

Jack glanced towards the living room; he couldn't see Sam from here, but with her in the living room the only place they could go that wouldn't disturb her would be one of the bedrooms.

"What, you got company?" Michael asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not exactly." Jack stepped back to let him in and was about to head to the spare room when Sam's voice stopped him.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" Her hair was messy from sleep and she bit back a yawn. The sweats didn't quite cover the bump on her abdomen that was now noticeable. "Jack?" she said, glancing between the two of them.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up," Jack said. "Sam, this is my brother Michael. Michael, this is my girlfriend Sam Carter."

"Pleased to meet you," Sam said politely.

"Likewise," Michael replied with a tense smile. "Jack, can we talk somewhere? I'm sorry to cut you out," he said to Sam, "but I'd really like to talk with my brother."

"Of course," Sam said. "I'll go get dressed; you guys can talk in the living room.

"Please don't go to any trouble on my account," Michael said. "You look fine."

Sam smiled. "And you are a flatterer. I hope we get the chance to get to know one another. How long will you be in the Springs?"

Michael shrugged. "I'm in Colorado for a business trip—my company is looking to expand westward, opening a branch in Denver; my current business is done, but I don't have any fixed date I need to be back in Chicago by. It kind of depends on family stuff."

"Ah. Well, it's nice to meet you."

Jack followed Michael into the living room while Sam disappeared down the hall. "Want a beer?"

"Nah, no thanks." Michael sat down on the couch, and Jack took the chair opposite him. "Sarah told us you'd got a girl pregnant, but didn't tell us you'd shacked up with her."

"Yeah, well, Sam hadn't moved in when I told Sarah about her." Jack shrugged.

"I'm glad you at least had the courtesy to tell Sarah yourself, at least," Michael said dryly. "Considerate of you."

"I try."

"Well, I'd've been more impressed if you'd waited more than a few months before replacing her."

"I wasn't doing it to _replace_ her," Jack said testily. "Nothing and no one could ever replace her. Or Charlie." He looked away, trying to keep his temper in check. He didn't have much contact with his family any more and that suited him, but he didn't want to alienate them completely. If nothing else, Sam wouldn't like it. "Sam knows that and isn't trying to. She's her own person."

"She's also a decade-younger version of Sarah." Michael snorted. "Jesus, Jack, I know you've got a type but did you have to pick someone so similar?"

"She picked me, actually."

"Yeah, right. She's gorgeous, sexy, twenty years younger than you—"

"More like ten."

Michael waved a hand dismissively. "Fine, ten. And Sarah says you told her she was a scientist of some kind, so she's gotta be smart. What would a woman with all that going for her want with a dried-up old warhorse like you?"

"She likes the lunatic fringe," Jack said, deadpan. Sam had said something to that effect during their mission to retrieve her former fiancé. Besides, he couldn't very well tell his civilian brother that she'd seduced him while they were both infected by an alien virus that turned them into mutant monkey cave-people, could he?

"More fool her, then." Michael shook his head. "Jack, I didn't come here to do this. I mean, no matter what I or anyone else thinks about it, it's a done deal. The thing is, Peggy and I know because Sarah called Peggy in tears after you told her. We haven't told anyone else in the family because that's your responsibility. But it's been two months, Jack. We were kinda starting to think you weren't ever going to tell the family."

"Yeah, about that," Jack said mildly. "We've been real busy at work, and Sam's Dad is here visiting, so she's kind of stressed out. I was gonna tell you guys when things calmed down around here. If nothing else, I was gonna put it in my Christmas cards.

"You were going to let your family know in _Christmas cards_?" Michael snorted. "Jack, you're an asshole, you know that? You didn't even bother to send any, last year."

Jack shrugged, looking out the window. Last Christmas had been his first without Sarah and Charlie, and he hadn't exactly been in the mood for cute cards and well wishes. He'd just wanted to be left alone, but no one in the family had been willing to respect his wishes.

"Do you guys need more time?"

Jack glanced over to see Sam standing there in jeans and a nice sweater. The jeans were fairly low-cut and the top stretched, but it looked like maybe she'd need to get some maternity wear soon. "I don't know, Michael, do we need more time?"

Michael narrowed his eyes. "I think I covered pretty much everything I wanted to say to you," he said. "But I would like to learn more about your girlfriend."

"Okay," Sam said, settling herself into the other chair. "Well, I'm a captain in the Air Force, and I'm also an astrophysicist. I work in a lab in Cheyenne Mountain, where I met Jack. My dad is a retired major general, also Air Force, and I have a brother who's married with two children and lives in San Diego. There's not much else to tell, really." She shrugged.

"Sam kinda left out the fact that she's not just a scientist, she's one of the most brilliant minds in the country," Jack put in. "Possibly in the whole world." And if by "world" he meant more than just this one planet, well, Michael would never know.

"Really?" Michael said, eyebrows raised.

Sam blushed. "Jack's exaggerating."

Jack shook his head seriously when Michael looked over at him.

"In any case, what do you see in him?" Michael asked. "I mean, I know he's my brother, but he's not very smart, he doesn't talk to anyone, and he was never there for Sarah."

"Jack may like to play dumb, but he's a lot smarter than he lets on," Sam said, crossing her arms. "He's got a great sense of humor, and when he's gone it's because he's on a mission. I'm an Air Force brat; I understand that. And he does talk to me."

"Not about the important stuff, he doesn't," Michael countered. "We know he's had problems because of stuff that's happened to him at work, but he'll never say why or what happened to him. Did you know he was a prisoner in Iraq for four months?

"Yes."

Michael blinked, but plowed on. "He was so screwed up when he came back from that—but he wouldn't even talk to Sarah about it. And nobody could get him to talk about Charlie, after it happened. We all tried, for _months_. He just sat there in that damn bedroom until Sarah couldn't take it any more. He's one cold loner."

"I've found that if you don't attack him and try to force him to talk to you, he's a lot more likely to actually open up," Sam said hotly. "He's not perfect. He does internalize his feelings more than he should. But he's a _damn_ good man, and I love him."

Jack froze, eyes darting to Sam's face. It was the first time either of them had used that particular four-letter word, and he wasn't quite sure how to react. Her entire focus was on Michael, though, so he turned back to his brother; there'd be time later to deal with it.

Michael was sitting back, eyebrows raised, surprised at the strength of her defense. "Okay," he said. "Fair enough. I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were getting into, that's all." He paused, turning to Jack. "I'm sorry for disturbing the two of you this evening; it sounds like you've been busy. But you really do need to let everyone know about this, and the sooner the better. If you don't, Peggy and I will." He stood up and dug out his wallet. "My cell number's on this. I'll be in town tomorrow, at least, if you guys want to get together for dinner or something." He handed the card to Jack. "Don't be a stranger." He smiled at Sam. "It was nice to meet you, Sam, but I think I'll be going."

"I'm glad to have met you, too," Sam said with a smile Jack recognized as fake.

He stood and walked his brother out. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mikey," he said in a low voice as his brother stepped out the door.

Michael shrugged. "If she wants you, that's between her and you. I just thought I should make sure she knew what kind of a man she was getting."

"Yeah," Jack shot back. "You're a real considerate guy. Look, we're both busy at work, and Sam's Dad is in town."

"So don't expect you to call, eh?" Michael fished in his pocket for his keys. "Don't worry, Jack, I'm mostly sticking around for Sarah's sake, anyway. I thought _someone_ should think of her feelings. Good night."

Jack gritted his teeth as his brother headed out to his car, closing the door gently. No way was he going to let him know he'd gotten to him. He turned around and saw Sam standing at the end of the hall.

"Wow," she said, shaking her head. "No wonder you wanted to just send them a card."

"Yeah," he said, pulling her into his arms. "Wanna watch the rest of the movie?"

"Sure," Sam replied.


	17. Chapter 17

"Oh, look, there's Daniel and Teal'c."

Sam followed Janet's gaze, and spotted her former teammates sitting in the corner. Daniel seemed to be working on something as he ate, showing it to Teal'c for input periodically. Janet headed across the cafeteria towards them, and Sam picked up her tray and followed. As they approached, they heard the two speaking in Goa'uld.

"Language lessons?" Sam said.

"Oh, hey, Sam," Daniel said, pushing his glasses up. "Don't worry about interrupting us, right, Teal'c?" He glanced over at the alien and watched bemusedly as he shoveled food into his mouth, evidently taking advantage of the break.

Sam understood the feeling; while the quantity of food Teal'c ate per meal and the speed at which he consumed it had stopped shocking her some time ago (they ate together, if not regularly, at least frequently), it was still a sight to see. "Where's Jack?" she asked as she took her seat. Generally, he was the one who rounded them all up for meals, sometimes dragging her and Daniel from their labs protesting all the way.

"Still dealing with base physical exams. I think he's in a meeting with the other team leaders, by now." Daniel glanced at his watch.

"That team selection thing?"

"Think so."

"What team selection thing?" Janet asked, sitting down across from Daniel.

"Oh, General Hammond decided that he's not going to put anyone on a team that goes through the gate until that person's been approved by an SG team leader," Daniel said.

"Considering that an SG team is the most unusual post in the US Air Force, that kind of vetting is probably a good idea," Janet said.

"Absolutely." Sam cut her sandwich in half. "They're going to be starting regular training rotations for each team, with scenarios and drills drawn from some of the things we've actually encountered out there. Anyway, I think what they're doing today is figuring out the basic selection and evaluation criteria they're going to use, and making sure everybody's on the same page. Jack was grumbling quietly about it this morning."

"Jack? Quiet?" Daniel's forehead wrinkled.

Sam shrugged. "As quiet as Jack gets, anyway. After the week we've had, I don't think he wanted to complain much where I could hear. Not that I mind—having Jack grumble about the little things can be kind of fun to listen to. Normally, anyway."

Daniel snorted.

"How are things going with your Dad?" Janet asked.

Sam shrugged. "We didn't see him yesterday, so nothing's changed on that front. But other than that …" she took a bite. "We were all settled in for a quiet evening at home together when the doorbell rang. It was Jack's brother, showing up unannounced."

"Jack's got a brother?" Daniel asked.

"Two. And a sister, Peggy. Anyway, this was Michael, who's two years older than Jack. He'd left a couple of messages on our phone machine, which I had assumed Jack had answered, but he apparently hadn't, so we had no idea Michael was coming. He's in Colorado on a business trip, and stopped by to visit Sarah and guilt-trip Jack."

"Should not his first concern be for his own brother, and not his brother's former wife?" Teal'c asked.

"You'd think," Sam said. "But I got the feeling that if he could have kept Sarah in the family and gotten rid of Jack, Michael would have preferred it to what actually happened. Granted, Jack's relationship with me was fairly sudden, as was the pregnancy, and it hasn't been that long since the divorce. And Michael has reason to be upset that he heard the news from Sarah instead of from Jack (who still hasn't told the rest of his family)." She took stabbed her fork into her salad, wishing it were Michael's head.

"Maybe that was all it was," Daniel suggested.

"Not a chance," Sam replied. "He tried to warn me off Jack."

"You're kidding," Janet said.

"I wish I were. Michael made it sound like Jack was a mute, irresponsible jerk with the IQ of a very small animal, and asked me what I could possibly see in him. I gritted my teeth and smiled as nicely as I could and refuted all his points. He didn't stay long after that, though he gave us his cell number—says he'll be in the area for a few days, if we want to get together again." She shook her head. "I know we should try to be on at least civil terms with both our families. But right now, I'm about ready to scream!"

"Well, you could always lock Michael and your Dad in a small room and let them fight it out," Daniel said with a smile. "That'd take care of the problem."

"Tempting," Sam said, "but unfortunately, they wouldn't fight. They'd be in complete agreement that Jack's not good enough for me and I should leave him."

* * *

A week later, Sam was in her lab when Daniel came in. "Hey," she said absently. "How's Teal'c doing?" Although she'd been there as Janet experimented on Teal'c's symbiote, Sam had left after they'd put the symbiote back in and Teal'c had woken up. She knew he'd been disappointed at the failure of the attempt to remove his symbiote, but he didn't like sympathy and she wasn't sure how else to support him. Jack was best at dealing with the alien, anyway. 

"Not well," Daniel said. "I think something's wrong with him. We were in a briefing, and he walked out. He wanted to go back to Chulak to retrieve another symbiote for them to study, and Hammond said no. Jack's going to go talk with him, see what's going on."

"I hope he's all right," Sam said, frowning. "That's not like him—usually he's so stoic, almost fatalistic. If something doesn't go his way, he either accepts it or fights it, but whatever he does he doesn't throw a fit and walk out. I guess the symbiote thing is bothering him more than he lets on."

"That, or else there's something else wrong," Daniel agreed. "Jack's talking with him now, to see if there's anything we can do. I'm not really sure where to even begin—as far as we know, nobody's had experience with aliens since the Stargate was buried."

"But you lived on Abydos for a year," Sam said.

"Yeah, but that was Abydos," Daniel said. "Their culture is a fairly standard middle-eastern nomadic type. I mean, the whole "false gods" thing is an interesting overlay, but the middle east is my specialty area. I had a good basis to start with. Jaffa culture—I haven't been able to come up with any parallel or similar cultures on Earth yet, nothing close enough for a real comparison. Teal'c is so contained; he doesn't give much away about what he's thinking, and doesn't talk much about his home, and that doesn't help. Anything I could come up with at this point would be pure guesswork. An educated guess, but that's it."

"I guess we'll just have to hope Jack can take care of things," Sam said.


	18. Chapter 18

Jack strolled through the door to Sam's lab, hands in his pockets. "Hey, Sam," he said. "Daniel." He closed the blast door behind him; this wasn't something he could go to the General with unless he had the full support of his team, and Sam deserved to know, too. And it wasn't something he wanted to become common gossip. There was enough talk about the SGC's resident alien already.

"What's … up, Jack?" Daniel asked, straightening from where he'd been leaning over the work table.

"Is something wrong with Teal'c?" Sam asked.

"Nothing wrong with _Teal'c_," Jack said, grabbing himself a stool. "That's … kind of the problem."

"How so?" Daniel asked.

"Apparently, T's been holding out on us," Jack said with a shrug. "Got himself a wife and kid back on Chulak. The kid's name is Ry'ac, and apparently he's due to be implanted with a goold any day now."

"But once the symbiote has been implanted, he won't ever be able to get rid of it," Sam said. "Oh, my God. No _wonder_ he wants to go back to Chulak so desperately."

"That's about it," Jack acknowledged.

"But why didn't he tell us in the first place," Daniel asked. "I mean, why hide it? Even when he wanted to go back? That's … a pretty good reason to go, isn't it?"

"Yes and no, Daniel," Sam said. "Risking your team's life for a cause, on a mission, is one thing. Risking it for something personal is a whole different thing entirely."

"How?" Daniel asked. "And, I mean, if we're willing to do it, why should it matter to anyone else that it's personal? What, do they think we're their property, and they don't want to risk their investment?"

Sam made a face. "In some ways, yes. People are the most valuable resource there is, because it's not like you can just crank out more in some factory. Recruiting and training are two of the largest parts of the budget for any of the United States' armed services, and the more specialized the training the harder and more expensive it is to replace. Our team has the only alien on the planet, two of the best scientists in the SGC," she gestured at herself and Daniel, "and a highly trained special forces colonel. And it's not like this only affects our team, either. General Hammond is responsible for all the people under his command, including us. Sometimes he has to put people in harm's way; that's part of being in the military. But you don't do it unless you have to, and in this case … I don't think _he'll_ think he has to, even if we volunteer. Not unless we," she grimaced, "_you_, can come up with some other reason for him."

"Nothing else, what happens if something goes wrong and we need backup?" Jack said. "Does he send other people into harm's way to extract you from your own personal fight, or does he let you get killed because he can't justify sending them? It's a tough choice, one he doesn't have to make. And there's a real simple way to guarantee he doesn't have to make it."

Daniel shook his head. "So my wife is enough to go through the Gate for, but Teal'c's wife and son _aren't_?"

"Daniel, looking for clues to Share's location is something our teams can do while they accomplish their other tasks," Sam said. "When we find something more concrete, we'll have to weigh the risks of a rescue operation then. What we're considering now is going to a _known_ hostile planet on intelligence that is several months old, with _no_ other justification than a personal reason."

"And that isn't good enough?"

"Maybe it should but it isn't."

"Actually," Jack said, interrupting them, "I wouldn't mention the personal reasons at all, except maybe as a last resort."

"Why not?" Daniel asked, glancing between them as Sam nodded in understanding.

"Hostages." Jack shrugged. "He's got a wife and kid in enemy hands. You don't think that makes him vulnerable if Apophis decides to play rough?"

"And the fact that he hasn't mentioned either of them until now just makes his motives more suspect," Sam agreed.

Daniel looked at them like they'd grown horns. "You don't believe that," he said skeptically.

Jack suppressed a flare of irritation. "No, Daniel, I don't. But I know Teal'c, I've been on missions with him, I watched him throw away his entire life—including his wife and son—to save ours. That gives me a little better knowledge of the guy than someone who's only seen him in a controlled situation or read reports about him." He shifted on his stool. "Well, we know what Daniel wants to do. What about you, Sam?"

"Me?" Sam asked, eyebrows raised. "I won't be going no matter what happens so why are you asking me?"

Jack stared at her. "Because if something happens and we don't come back …" he gestured at her stomach "…you'd be alone."

Sam bit her lip and looked down. Jack folded his arms in front of him, trying to wait patiently for an answer.

"Jack, I don't like you going off on missions without me," she said at last. "I don't like you risking your neck without me there to watch your back and share your risks. I _hate_ having to sit here and wonder what's happening to you for hours, and not being able to do anything about it. But that's just something I have to live with, whether you do this or not. And going back for Teal'c's family—that's the right thing to do." She looked up and shrugged. "We can't ask him to fight for us if we're not willing to fight for him."

"Okay, then," Jack said, trying to contain a swell of pride. Grounded she might be, but she understood the truly important things as well as any officer he'd ever had the privilege of serving with. And she was smart and savvy, too. What she could have accomplished if things had been different …. "Let's figure out a way to sell this to Hammond."


	19. Chapter 19

AN: Sorry for the two week hiatus, guys! I was moving. I'm now at seminary in Pennsylvania. I'll try to keep the updates coming on the regular schedule from here on out. And I see the horizontal line still hasn't been fixed. Aaargh.

aaa

Sam took a bite of yogurt, eyes closed, trying to visualize the power flow between the Gate and the dialing computer. She had some things she wanted to tweak, just little things that would help maximize efficiency—the Gate was a real power hog. It was no use; a hundred different disaster scenarios ran through her head. Teal'c recognized; Jaffa patrols; death gliders on strafing runs; capture; torture; implantation …. She sighed and opened her eyes. Today was _not_ the day for abstract visualizations. She needed something concrete to keep her imagination from wandering.

"Hey, Sam."

"Janet," she said with a smile, turning. "What brings you to my lab?"

"Coffee," the brunette said, raising the mug she had in her hand. "I forgot to bring more for my stash, and I wasn't in the mood for cafeteria sludge. Mind if I steal some?"

"Sure, go right ahead," Sam said, gesturing to her coffee pot. "How's things going down in the infirmary?"

Janet shrugged. "Nothing interesting. Mostly, we're all sitting around waiting for SG-1 to bring us back some nice samples to work with, though I won't have much to do with that; they'll be sending the symbiotes on to Area 52 for study and dissection."

"Will you be disappointed?" Sam asked, curious.

Janet smiled. "No. I'm a medical doctor, not a xenobiologist. I've got my hands full just keeping this base healthy, and I don't have the lab space to devote to such a project on a long-term basis. The only reason I was doing the work on Teal'c myself was because General Hammond was worried that if he let an off-base surgeon work on him, particularly one who wanted to take him off base, Teal'c would disappear into the hands of Samuels's people and we'd never see him again."

"Ah," Sam said. She leafed through a stack of papers, trying to find the data she'd been working on before the thing with Teal'c's family had come up.

"Sam, are you okay?"

Sam looked up. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

Janet shrugged. "You seem more nervous than normal. I mean, than when SG-1 is on a mission. Is it just that they're going into known hostile territory, or is this something else?"

"Mostly just that they're going behind enemy lines," Sam said. "I'm finding it a lot harder to concentrate on my work than it usually is. I was planning on staying late tonight—I mean, it's not like I'd be getting much rest at home, waiting to hear any news about them—but it isn't looking like I'd accomplish much by staying here, either."

"And you do need to rest, Sam," Janet said. "I know I'm beginning to sound like a broken record, but it's true. You've had a few cordial dinners with your father in the last two weeks, and without Jack to set him off maybe—" she broke off at Sam's look. "Or not. How about you come on over to my place for a girls' night in? Maybe we can get a couple of the other women on base to come over, too—some of my nurses would probably be interested. This place can be a bit stressful, and we could all do with some relief. I bet we could keep you distracted that way."

Sam blinked. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a girls' night in. "What were you thinking of doing?"

"Nothing fancy," Janet said with a shrug. "Ice cream, a good chick flick, maybe some facials. We could get some of the other women in your condition over, too, and you could all compare notes. Doctors MacKenzie and Hiroshi have been complaining that people aren't letting them help deal with the situation the virus left, and they're not dealing with it on their own—there's been some talk of medical leave. Maybe a little spontaneous group therapy might help." She smiled. "It certainly can't hurt."

Sam winced. Medical leave ordered by a psychologist would further jeopardize the careers of those involved—the last thing the Air Force wanted was unstable people, especially in a front-line position as the SGC was turning out to be. "I don't know. I'm not really in the mood for therapy of any kind."

Janet snorted. "Honey, the only kind of therapy I'm proposing is chocolate therapy, with a bit of Richard Gere therapy thrown in."

"Well, when you put it _that_ way," Sam said with a smile, "it doesn't sound so bad. Although, I generally prefer Harrison Ford." She scraped the last of the yogurt out of the container, considering the offer. "All right. I'll be there."

"Great!" Janet said. "I'll see who else wants to come."

aaa

"I don't know," Jennifer said, flipping her blond hair over her shoulder. "I really don't think about it that much. It just all seems too much like a dream, y'know? From the incident to the abortion. MacKenzie is _such_ a pain in the ass. He just assumes I'm repressing and not dealing with it. He's making such a big deal out of it, way more than it deserves." She shrugged and dug into her bowl of ice cream.

"That's easy for _you_ to say," Gabby said with a snort. "My husband won't look me in the eye any more. I've suggested counseling, but he doesn't want to go, and it's not like I need any myself, really. And it's not like counseling would fix the problem, really—he's a good guy, he'd understand if I could only tell him what really happened."

Jennifer snorted. "Well, it's your own fault for telling him any of it to begin with. If you didn't want to get rid of it, you could have at least let him think it was his. Too much grief for both of you as it stands now. I mean, there's no way my boyfriend would've thought it was his, but you don't have that problem."

Gabby stared at her for a second. "I can't believe you think I would seriously lie to him about something that big."

"Why not?" one of the others asked. Sam hadn't caught her name. "I bet you've told him you work in some nice safe base infirmary, for some nice safe research base, nothing to worry about. That's a bigger lie."

"Work's one thing, though," someone else put in. "This is personal. It's not the same."

"Yeah, which is why you get to be a single mother."

Sam followed the conversation without joining in. For all her problems, she hadn't realized how good she had it compared to the others. Of the ten women who'd gotten pregnant as a result of the Touched virus, she was the only one now in a relationship with the father of the baby. She was also the only one who was in a stable relationship, period—everyone was having problems of one sort or another. Well, at least it was keeping her mind off what was happening to Jack and the team—mostly.

She stood up and picked her way around chairs and women, making her way to the kitchen for a glass of water. She stared blankly at the window, drinking her water and wishing she were back at the SGC, and her boys were back from their mission.

"Sam, I'm sorry."

She turned around to see Janet in the doorway. "For what?"

"I was mostly joking about the group therapy," Janet replied. "I just wanted a fun night for all of you, to let off a little steam."

Sam shrugged. "We all agreed to keep things light at the start of the evening, and it lasted through the movie. Not your fault this is the biggest thing in our lives right now." She took another swallow of water, tossing out the rest. "I think it was good for me to hear how well-off I am compared to them. And believe it or not, the evening as a whole _has_ been better for me than sitting at home watching the clock would have been. If nothing else, I know how fortunate I've been, relatives from Hell notwithstanding."

"But you're leaving now?"

"Yeah." Sam gave a strained smile. "I'm really tired. And … I can't share my experiences without feeling guilty for complaining about how good I have it."

Janet nodded. "I understand, Sam. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah."


	20. Chapter 20

AN: Sorry about the delay, folks, but I'm back in school and going to school full time plus a part time job somehow seems to take up more time than just having a job. Alas.

* * *

Jack walked through the wormhole and emerged safe in the SGC. Letting out an unobtrusive sigh of relief, he started helping Daniel down the ramp to make room for Teal'c, who had their six.

"Medical team to the Gateroom," Hammond's voice boomed out over the loudspeakers.

Behind Jack, the wormhole rippled as Teal'c came through, then shut down.

"I can walk," Daniel protested as the nurses wheeled a gurney up to him. "It's only—"

"Only a flesh wound, we know, Daniel," Jack said as he handed him over to the nurses. "But let's let the nice ladies in white figure it out for themselves." He looked up at the control room, holding up the large thermos they'd stuffed two goold larvae in, although it only held one now. And was he ever glad he'd insisted on making sure they had an extra. "Mission accomplished, General."

"Good work, SG-1. Debriefing in one hour."

Jack nodded, turning to watch Teal'c. "They'll be okay," he said as the big man hesitated on the ramp. "Bra'tac'll take good care of them." He clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Of that I am aware, O'Neill," Teal'c said as he began to make his way down the ramp. Only someone who knew him would have noticed his stride was slightly more hesitant than normal.

Jack nodded. "So, until we kick Apophis' ass and free the Jaffa, guess you'll just have to hang out with us."

"So it would seem."

"Hey, how about a team night at my place sometime soon?" They were out of the Gateroom now, but Teal'c still seemed reluctant to leave.

"Perhaps."

"We could have Chinese again—you sure seemed to like it the last time you were over. Or I could make some spaghetti, way better than that crap the cafeteria serves. How about tomorrow night?" Tonight Jack just wanted to curl up with Sam, but the big guy needed to be cheered up soon.

"Perhaps in a few days," Teal'c said.

"Okay," Jack said. "I'll talk with Sam and Daniel and we'll do something soon."

Sam entered the infirmary a few minutes behind Daniel, and just after Jack and Teal'c arrived for their post-mission exam.

"Hey," she said as Janet checked Jack for Goa'uld entrance wounds.

"Hey," Jack replied. "You weren't in the Gateroom."

Sam shrugged. "Sorry. I was planning on it, but I thought you were SG-2—they're due back right about now." The lights indicating Gate activity began to flash. "In fact, that's probably them. How was the mission? I heard Daniel was hurt."

"Grazed by a staff blast. Nothing serious—it barely got him. Frasier's patching him up now. Will keep him out of the field, for a while, though," Jack shrugged, "I'd want to add at least one more person to the team before we go out again, anyway. Possibly as many as three."

"Really? Why?"

Jack picked up something from a nearby tray and started fiddling with it, to the nurse's displeasure. He sometimes forgot that Sam's only field experience as part of a ground force was the few months she'd been on SG-1. "Tactical flexibility. You wanna avoid sending people off on their own without anyone to watch their back in hostile territory, and if you've only got three people, that kinda screws you over. Either you never split up, or someone gets left out on their own. Bad idea. Six is about the perfect size for a small ops team: big enough to be flexible, small enough to still be small ops."

"Why, then, do SG teams only have four people?" Teal'c asked from the next bed over.

"They call it the Air Force for a reason, big guy," Jack said. "We generally leave the ground combat to the Marines or the Army. Not many real experts in how to run a ground unit in the Air Force, and _nobody's_ done ground combat on other _planets_ before. Combine that with the shortage of personnel we started with, and you get four-man teams."

"If your Air Force has no experience in ground combat, why was it given control of the Stargate?" Teal'c asked. "And are you not a member of the Air Force yourself?"

"Well, the Air Force is the most high tech of the four military branches," Sam said. "We're also the ones who do the most flying. So when the first attempts at going outside of Earth's atmosphere were made fifty years ago, it was logical to put space technology and operations in the Air Force's jurisdiction. Which made the Stargate ours. Though, if they'd known at the time exactly how to use it, they might have made an exception and given it to the Army or Marines. The SGC is a joint-services command; we do have Marines on base, and they're putting together a Marine team for combat support when an Air Force team gets into heavy combat." She frowned. "I actually don't know how Jack got into ground combat."

"I started my career seconded to the Army as TACP, got Special Forces training that way."

"TACP stands for Tactical Air Control Party," Sam said to Teal'c's blank look. "They go along with ground teams from other branches of service to act as liaisons with Air Force assets. So, if a Marine or Army team was going to have air support from the Air Force, they might have a TACP officer with them to make sure that there were no misunderstandings."

"I see," Teal'c said. "How long a time will you require to select the new members of our team?"

"Depends on the candidates," Jack said. "I'd like another technical specialist." He raised an eyebrow at Sam.

She shrugged. "There's no one currently on base that I'd recommend for a front-line team. I'll see if I can find a possibility in one of my recruitment files."

"Thanks," Jack said. "I'm also gonna want you to go over the recruits with me," he said to Teal'c. "You've got a much better idea what we're going up against than I do."

Teal'c inclined his head gracefully.


	21. Chapter 21

Sam hesitated outside Daniel's office. Usually, he was the one to seek her out, but he'd been conspicuously absent over the last few days, since they returned from the mission to Chulak.

"Hey," she said, walking in. "How's the arm?"

"Huh?" Daniel looked up from his notebook and blinked owlishly. "Oh. That." He looked down at his arm, hanging at his side in a sling. "It's … it's not that bad, really. Though I wouldn't recommend getting grazed by a staff blast as a recreational activity, or anything. What bugs me is the pain medications Doctor Frasier—Janet—insists I take. They make my head a bit muzzy, and it's taking me a lot longer to do my work than it should."

"Longer than it would be if you couldn't concentrate because you were in pain?"

"Well, not really," Daniel admitted. "It's, uh, it's still annoying, though."

"So, don't get shot next time," Sam said with a smile.

"I'll try not to."

Sam watched him for a few seconds, waiting for him to talk. Now, she'd only known Daniel a few months, but she knew him well enough to know that the problem was usually getting him to be quiet, rather than the other way around. "So, other than the arm, how was the mission?"

Daniel shrugged. "Okay. Not _too_ exciting, anyway. We met Teal'c's family, and his mentor Master Bra'tac, who doesn't believe in the Goa'uld any more than Teal'c does." He hesitated. "Jack and I went to get a symbiote while Bra'tac and Teal'c went to stop the ceremony. There was a tank full of prim'tah—that's what they call immature symbiotes, like the Jaffa use in their pouches—unguarded. We got the two into the flask, and then I shot the tank, so the water and symbiotes all spilled out."

"Oh," Sam said, surprised that the mild-mannered archaeologist would attack such a defenseless enemy. "But they're just babies, really. I mean," she flushed as she realized how … girlish that sounded. "They're not fully developed. And they've never had the opportunity to prove themselves either good or evil—for all we know, some of them would have grown up to be good." She frowned, trying to imagine a good goa'uld. "Well, at least better than Apophis."

"I know all that, Sam," Daniel said softly. "But the thing is, I wouldn't do it any differently if I had the choice. A year ago, six months ago … that would have been different." He shook his head. "Actually, I think the strangest thing is having you lecture me about the morality of the whole thing."

"Why is that?" Sam asked, stung.

"Well, for one thing, you're in the military."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean? That anyone in the military is automatically less ethical than someone who isn't? Thanks for the high opinion you have of me and my chosen profession, Daniel."

"That isn't what I meant," Daniel said, putting a placating hand on her arm as she stood to leave. "I'm sorry."

"Then what did you mean?" she asked, not mollified at all.

"It's just … in my experience with the military, ethics rank lower in the priorities list than tactics and paranoia."

"And you have a lot of experience with the military, right?" Sam shot back. "In the time you've been with the SGC, when have we _ever_ put paranoia over ethics? The job of any military is to protect its country. That means being practical and facing up to reality—like the fact that there really _are_ people out there who want to hurt us—and figuring out ways to make sure they don't succeed. But that doesn't mean we sacrifice our principles in the process. If we do, we're no better than our enemies. Military personnel are _well_ aware of that, Daniel. That's why ethics classes are required at all of the service academies."

"Then why did General West send a nuclear bomb through the Stargate on the first mission to Abydos in the care of a suicidal man?" Daniel's voice had risen to match hers.

"He _what_?"

"He sent a nuclear bomb on the first mission to Abydos, among the baggage. Jack was supposed to use it in case there was any kind of a threat. He almost _did_ end up using it on the planet's surface, despite knowing that he would have been blowing up his team and the people of Abydos along with Ra. And he wasn't planning on leaving before it went off. He was pretty messed up from … Charlie's death."

"You're kidding," Sam said. "I can see having a nuke ready to go on our end, so they could send it through in case of a threat. But releasing that powerful a weapon to a commander with no way of checking back with headquarters—I don't know how they justified that. Especially if Jack was," she shook her head, unable to picture Jack as being that depressed, "was unstable."

Daniel shrugged. "You'd think so. Though, come to think of it, I don't think either Kawalsky or Ferretti knew about it until I told them about it, after Ra had captured it and was going to send it back to Earth with a bunch of Naquadah—that mineral they mine on Abydos—around it to enhance the explosion." He gave her a half smile. "Anyway, it doesn't matter now. Except that I'm very glad that it's Hammond and not West in command of the SGC."

"Yeah," Sam said.

* * *

Jack flipped the steaks over on the stove, taking a sip of his beer as he did so. He glanced around the kitchen, checking that everything else was ready or in the oven. "Hey, Teal'c," he said to the big man, watching from the door. "Can I get you anything? Juice, maybe? Dinner'll be ready in a few minutes." 

"I have no thirst at this time."

"Okay," Jack said, leaning against the counter next to him. He eyed Teal'c for a few minutes. "Something on your mind?"

Teal'c cocked his head, considering. "On Chulak, only women cook," he said.

Jack snorted. "Used to be here on Earth, too. But I dare you to talk about 'women's work' in front of either Sam or Doc Frasier. I'd be kinda interested in watching the fireworks … from a safe distance." He prodded the steaks. "Besides, grilling meat is a … manly way of cooking."

A raised eyebrow was his only answer. Jack would have left it there, but Daniel had been after him to see how the Jaffa was doing after his visit home. "So, how's it going, being back on Earth?"

Teal'c looked out the window. "I knew before I betrayed Apophis that I could never go home again. It would be too dangerous to my wife and son. I am grateful that my exile serves the cause of freedom."

Jack nodded, hearing all the things Teal'c didn't say. "Yeah."


	22. Chapter 22

AN: Here it is, at last! The final chapter to New Lives. Thank you all for reading! If you've enjoyed this story, don't forget to go to my author profile and check out all my stories.

* * *

"So, how's Teal'c?" Sam asked. She and Jack were curled up on the couch, resting after clean-up.

"He's fine," Jack said, rubbing her lower back. "Or at least as fine as … can be expected. I mean, he takes the whole family thing seriously, and chances are it's gonna be _years_ before he gets to see them again, _and_ they got kicked out of the loyal Jaffa crowd when Teal'c defected. Master Bra'tac says he'll keep an eye on them, but …"

"It's not the same as being able to take care of them himself," Sam finished. "Poor guy."

"Hey, I pity Apophis, when Teal'c finally gets a chance to take all this out on him."

Sam twisted around to see his face and raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Jack grinned. "Well, no, not really."

"That's what I thought." She turned back around so Jack could continue rubbing. She had no clue how single women handled pregnancy.

"So, how's Daniel?" Jack asked.

Sam hesitated. "I think he's doing okay. But I also think that if you'd asked him before the mission if he'd kill a tank full of Goa'uld infants, he'd have said no. When we talked, I got the feeling he was kind of having to re-evaluate his self-image. I have to admit, I was pretty shocked when he told me. It doesn't exactly fit with the image of him I had."

She could feel Jack shrug behind her. "Daniel's always had hidden depths. He was the one who got the natives organized into a rebellion on Abydos, and it wasn't just that he was the only one who could speak the lingo. Violence is generally a last resort for him, but he's not what you'd call a pacifist."

"I know that, you wouldn't have him on the team if her were." She yawned. "You know, if you keep doing that I'm going to fall asleep right here. It feels wonderful."

"Thanks," Jack said, deadpan. "Just what I always wanted. The ability to make a beautiful woman in my arms fall asleep before we get to the good part."

Sam snickered. "Don't worry. I didn't get much sleep when you were gone, that probably has something to do with it."

"Mmm. You should take better care of yourself."

"Jack …" Sam shook her head. "You know, you really need to tell your family about me. Soon."

Jack grunted, going back to the back massage.

"I'm serious," Sam said. "You're on a front-line combat team, and you go on missions behind enemy lines. What happens if you don't make it back some time? I don't want your parents to find out they have a new grandbaby at the same time they find out about your death. We don't have to spend Christmas with them or anything, but they need to know."

Jack was quiet for several minutes, but Sam knew she'd pressed as much as she could at once.

"You thought about that a lot, while I was gone," he said at last.

"Yeah," Sam replied. "It was hard to keep my mind on much of anything else, actually. It wasn't like a regular mission." She twisted around slightly and snuggled into Jack, wrapping her arms around him as best she could.

"Okay," Jack said. "I'll give them a call tomorrow, I promise. But don't expect any happy family reunions or warm welcomes—you met Michael."

"And you've met my Dad," Sam returned. "And you haven't met Mark, but I don't think he'd like you either—he doesn't approve of the military, mostly because it ticks Dad off. Neither of us exactly has a great family."

"You could say that again." Jack placed a kiss on the top of her head.

"And Daniel and Teal'c have family, but can't be with them." Sam shook her head. "We're sure a lonely group."

"Guess we'll just have to be each others' family."

* * *

Jack stuck his head through the door. "Guys?" he said to the two men in the waiting room.

"Is Sam okay?" Daniel asked, fiddling with his glasses.

"Yeah," Jack said with a grin. "She's wonderful. It's done."

"I offer my sincere congratulations," Teal'c said with a bow. "Is the child a boy or a girl?"

"Why don't you come on in and see?" Jack said


End file.
